Zombie Killin' Business
by breezyyy
Summary: Blaine was in Twilight Zone. Either that or he had officially gone insane. There was no way, hand grenade wielding David, sniper sharp shooter Wes, and flamethrower extraordinaire Kurt were real. There was no way that three hours ago the apocalypse began
1. Step 1: Gather Your Weapons

Heavily inspired by **fagur fiskur's wonderful story, The Glee Alphabet**since this is taken from her letter Z, Zombie Apocalypse. Permission was granted to use her idea and the text already provided, though I did add a little to it. Anyways, thanks again to my fabulous beta DJ who deserves a big round of applause for fixing all my crappy mistakes (check out her stories too, DJDizzyD).

**Zombie Killin' Business**

Summary: Blaine was in Twilight Zone. Either that or he had officially gone insane. There was no way, hand grenade wielding David, sniper sharp shooter Wes, and flamethrower extraordinaire Kurt were real. There was no way that three hours ago the apocalypse fully began.

Warnings: Abuse of (things written in here) and shotty sarcasm. You have now been warned.

* * *

Chapter 1: Step 1: Gather Your Weapons and Get Your Supplies

* * *

It started with a news report.

(We won't get into the scientific aspect of how an abnormality in some flu shots started this whole mess as it would get quite intricate and would end up boring most of you, so we'll just say it started with a news report and leave it at that.)

It was early spring and the snow had just melted when there was a report that a man - one Clarence Tuffle of Lawrence, Kansas, thirty-five years, eight months, and seventeen days old - died from what seemed to be the common cold.

The family was devastated but with no romantic relations or kids, he left behind his parents and an older sister who, along with some friends and family, were the only people at the funeral. According to the busty news reporter, during the open casket ceremony Mr. Tuffle rose from his coffin, slowly, jerkily, and launched himself at the nearest person.

That poor priest.

One could argue that the man really didn't mind having his face eaten off, although the blood curdling screams seemed to indicate otherwise.

After that report, and after the several hoax accusations and general finger-pointing, other reports around the nation popped up that were very similar. Not good.

* * *

Back in Ohio, in a boarding school four hours away from his home, one Mr. Blaine Anderson, seventeen years, three weeks and six days old, sat at his computer monitor, horrified at the news.

Apparently the President of the United States had declared this problem to be of the "zombie apocalypse" persuasion. If Blaine hadn't been so terrified and dumbstruck, he would have commented on the President's rather nice description of the situation.

A panicked thought crossed his mind as he watched President Obama reassure the public that his best people were working on ways to stop this attack.

_"I thought that this 2012 bullshit was...__**bullshit**__! It's real. We're all gonna to die! Nononono! _

Blaine ran a hand through his hair, not caring that he had now messed up his pristine gelled hair (gasp!). What in the world was going on?

The zombie apocalypse only happened in movies like Zombieland or Shane of the Dead. There was no way this was legit. He had to have been dreaming... or in the Twilight Zone. Nothing else made sense. This was _not _real life. It was indeed a fantasy.

Closing his laptop, he marched out of his room in search for his closest friends. Maybe they could shed some light on this madness. This utter, ridiculous madness. He hurried down the deserted hall to Kurt's room. He knocked and then proceeded to open the door, but was met by an empty room. Frowning, Blaine retreated back down the hall and then turned the corner heading towards David's room.

Slipping through the cracked door Blaine blinked at the sight before him. He blinked again when the image didn't change, and then rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He couldn't believe this. This was _not _real life, dammit. This had to be a _fucking fantasy_. It had to be.

Kurt and Wes were in David's, the three of them bustling around the area, packing.

Stuttering, the only words he could get out were,"The apocalypse?"

And so what if his voice came out two octaves higher than it usually was? No one could really blame him. Not really.

Kurt was the closest to him, a rather large suitcase at his feet. The elven like boy no longer resembled a fragile crystal vase or something to that nature but with black combat boots, tight black jeans and a dark gray turtle neck he looked like... well he looked pretty bad ass. Especially with what looked like flamethrower in-

What in the actual fuck?

_"Wait, why does Kurt have a flameflower?"_

Kurt finished inspecting his flamethrower. Not only was it functioning, but it was fabulous (It was painted in the Dalton colors. Never let it be said that Kurt Hummel did not have school spirit).

Kurt rolled his eyes."Get with the program, Blaine. It's been nearly three hours since it started."

"But-" Blaine started, a feeling that his grasp on reality was slipping away. Was he in some mental institution, hallucinating all of this right now? Had he done meth? He should have listened to those commercials. Meth: Not even once. All he had to do was listen. But no, he didn't. Now he was hallucinating about the zombie apocalypse and Kurt having a huge ass flamethrower in his hands.

"It's fun," David said cheerfully, nearly bouncing over to him as he zipped up a large duffle bag. Blaine just stared at him, his eyebrow a furrowing.

"We get to use hand-grenades. Do you want one?"

Blaine ignored his friend's outstretched arm. "Is no one else _worried_ about this?"

"We finished panicking two hours and forty-five minutes ago," Wes told him. "Now we're in the lock-and-load phase. We'll be heading out soon though, so if you're not gonna take one of David's hand-grenades you'll need some other weapon."

There was a heavy pause as Blaine starred at his three best friends in silence. This was real.

This crazy ass zombie attack was legit. On the bright side, at least Blaine now knew he wasn't a meth-addict.

"…I have a baseball bat," Blaine said weakly, eyes still wide in silent terror.

"Perfect," Kurt commented. "Are we ready?" He grabbed the handle of his suitcase in one hand, his prideful flamethrower in the other.

"Ready," Wes said, grabbing his sniper rifle while shouldering his own canvas bag.

David grinned. "The countless hours I spent playing Dead Rising 2 instead of studying will not have been in vain." Grenade in hand and plenty few attached to a rather thick belt, he too picked up his duffel bag and readied himself to leave his dorm room for the last time.

Grinning without any joy, but in sheer panic, Blaine said, "Let me get my bat and pack my bag then we can get out of here."

In no more than fifteen minutes, the four boys packed and speeding down the highway in Kurt's Navigator.

* * *

"Hey Wes, David," Blaine turned back from his position in the passenger seat, having totally beat the other two boys at calling Wookie. "How come both of you have heavy duty military weapons? I mean, it was only announced today that the apocalypse has officially began. And I know that even you two couldn't have gotten hand grenades and a sniper gun in like two hours."

The two boys in the back exchanged looks before David spoke, "We may or may not have been planning for an event like one such as this to happen since we were twelve,"

"We also may or may not have a container bin a mile from here that has all the supplies we need for a month." Wes added, flashing a smile at a now horrified looking Blaine.

Blaine stared at the two of them, his eyes darting back from one to the other in disbelief. He really shouldn't have been surprised. These were the two boys who took every zombie shooter game invented seriously. The Dead Rising series was like a staple in their video game marathons every Wednesday night.

The boy then turned to the other driving. "Kurt?"

Kurt's now grayish-looking eyes flickered to him briefly before averting back to the road, scouting for any stumbling zombie or abandoned vehicles that were beginning to block the freeway.

"Hmm?" Kurt asked.

"Why do you own a flamethrower? Or did one of the two loons give it to you?"

Kurt bit at his lower lip and then quickly answered, "I may or may not have this hobby of picking out the most hideous shirt or dress or sweater when I go out shopping, buying it because I could not stand the thought of someone else actually buying it for the intent of wearing it, and I may or may not like to take my flamethrower and light it on fire, as those fashion travesties really shouldn't be allowed to exist."

Blaine fell back against his seat and breathed out his nose and then inhaled through his mouth. He really was surrounded my crazies. Was _no one_ sane anymore? Before he was able to ponder that subject, their car was squealing to a stop at a blue and orange storage facility. Stopping suddenly, Kurt killed the engine and the four sat silently for a moment.

"Okay guys," David began, sitting forward so his head appeared between the two up front, "We get out, slip into the warehouse, find our storage unit, get the stuff, and then get out. From there we go to-"

"We go to Lima." Kurt interrupted.

Blaine could hear Wes in the back hiss. "But that's not in the plan!"

Kurt shot him a death glare, his eyes hard and jaw set stubbornly, "I don't care that it's not in the plan. I have to check up on my Dad! And since the phone lines are down and so are the cell phone towers, I have to go make sure he and Carole and Finn are doing fine, okay?"

David stared at Kurt and saw that there was no way the boy was going to change his mind, leaning back he and Wes whispered quietly before Wes said, "Fine, we can make the drive out to Liam then we can continue on with the plan as, well, planned."

"Unless you wanted to continue north to visit your parents Blaine?" David added.

"No thanks guys, I'm sure my family is fine," Blaine replied with a smile and a shrug.

"My family fled to England after the first attack," Wes said as David added, "And mine fled to our winter home in Germany. So, I guess that settles that."

Kurt spoke. "Wes, hand me my flamethrower would you? It's in the back seat," Now equipped he said, "Alright guys are you ready?"

David and Wes exchanged high fives and with a war cry barreled out of the car. Kurt noticed that Blaine didn't even move to unbuckle his seat belt. Tilting his head to the right, he silently asked if Blaine was okay. Exhaling sharply, Blaine nodded once, gathered his bat and slipped out of the car. Hopping out of his seat, Kurt waited for Blaine to circle the car and gasped his hand tightly, giving it a small squeeze to reassure the boy. Kurt gave Blaine a small, sweet smile.

Blaine smiled back and the two jogged up to catch up with a sighing David, "Slow pokes, you can kiss and cuddle later but we need to get to the storage garage now."

Blaine rolled his eyes. Though they may have been in the middle of the world ending, his friends would apparently always be the same. Kurt felt the tips of his ears grow hot in embarrassment and without thinking locked the car, two sharp beeps filling the deserted space.

That habit would only lead to some bloody consequences.

Jogging, the four teens headed towards Wes' and David's emergency storage, alert and eyes peeled for the undead. To say that that both Blaine and Kurt were stunned when they reached and opened the storage door would be an understatement it. When the orange door was unlocked and swung open both of them gasped at the sheer volume of supplies. There were twelve stacks of packages of bottled water to crates of canned foods, a box full of bullets for Wes and grenades of various sizes for David, not to mention a whole rack of weapons hung on the far wall and even more unseen treasures lay in the space.

"Wha...?" Blaine felt his jaw grow slack in bewilderment.

"Do you wanna change out that bat Blaine, maybe for like an axe or," David nearly skipped over to the wall of investments, "How 'bout a nice staple gun!"

Finding his voice again, he stuttered, "N-no, I'm, I think I'm good with the bat." He held it up good measure, a bit stupidly.

David shrugged, "Fine, your loss, I'll take it then." Rummaging through the massive amount of crap the two had accumulated over the years, the boys filled four boxes, one filled with water, another with food, another full of ammunition and weapons, and the last full with blankets.

"Alright," David wiped his forehead with the back of his left hand, "let's head out, but we need to be careful. Our hands are full of precious cargo, but at the first sight of a zombie, drop your box and ready your weapon."

Maybe Blaine hadn't fully realized the seriousness of the situation but military!David was almost annoying in his intensity. Set at a steady, fast pace, the four headed to the car.

It was Blaine who first saw, twenty feet ahead and slightly to their right, the walking undead. Throat dry, he stopped dead in his tracks, his box (the lightest one with the space blankets and cotton blankets because apparently his still-shocked state couldn't handle anything heavier) dropped to the floor. Instead of any vocal concerns or warnings, a croak emitted from his throat.

Kurt glanced at him with a frown, his eyes a confused grayish-blue, "What's wro-Oh! Guys? Zombies at our two o'clock!" The boy had followed Blaine's wide eyes and saw what had rendered him speechless.

Either it was Kurt's exclamation or the zombie's brains finally processed that four very alive boys were right in their vicinity, but which ever it was the zombies picked up their limping pace towards them.

"Shit!" Wes exclaimed as he let go of his box and took up his gun.

Blaine gripped the bat with both hands, arm pulled back as he took up a batting position - all those late afternoon days playing baseball games with his father, before the whole you're-no-longer-my-son-you-queer thing, would actually be put to some use. Who knew? Maybe he did owe one thing to his father now. Well, Blaine decided, he would if he got out of this situation alive.

But just because he still knew how to wield a bat didn't mean that his thought process was anything other than_," !"_

"Steady!" David quipped as the distance between the zombies quickly evaporated. Thanks for that completely unhelpful comment, David. Blaine would have rolled his eyes if he actually had control over his body right then.

With eight feet left, Wes opened fire, whooping like mad. Kurt pursed his lips together and shouted over the noise, "If I get blood on this outfit I will go Coach Slyvester on their asses and-" The rest of his threat was unheard as with a pull of the trigger a stream of fire shot out and caught three zombies on fire.

The boys' ears were filled with pained screeches of the burning, the loud bark of Wes' gun and the war cries of David, Blaine felt highly overwhelmed as two zombies slipped through the ranks and headed straight for him.

_"Shit!shitshitshitshitshit!ohgod. oh god. SHIT!"_

Four feet, three feet, two…

With a girlish scream (which would later be blamed on the zombies who screamed as they burned, as someone of Blaine's cool and calm nature would never release such an embarrassing sound, and it really was very embarrassing) he swung the bat with his eyes closed and hoped for the best.

A wet thud and the sharp vibrations making his arms feel like jello told him he at least made contact, which was something he could never accomplish as a child, though he blamed those stupid, tiny ass balls. After a few seconds, Blaine unscrunched his face, opened his hazel eyes slowly and peeked at the now crumpled zombie, head busted open and dark red blood spilling onto the floor.

Gag.

Before Blaine had the chance to get sick all over the dead body, the second attacker lunged; Blaine fell back on his ass, trying to avoid its rotten flesh. He was not going to be contaminated. And who knew if this zombie thing was contagious? He was not taking that chance. One cannot be gentlemanly and be a zombie at the same time. And Blaine really liked being dapper. It came towards him again, salivating, bloody, and Blaine scrambled backwards crab like, totally not screaming as he did so.

Blaine's life flashed before his eyes. He thought back to singing as a child, the baseball games he hated so much, transferring to Dalton, meeting Kurt for the first time, and finally to the crazy ass experience that had been his morning. Damnit (Janet) he was going to die a virgin.

In a ridiculously heroic move (read: if Blaine hadn't been practically shitting his pants, he would have thought it was slightly hot), Kurt swooped in, picked up Blaine's fallen bat and knocked the zombie out of the park, or well, in reality busted open the zombie dude's head, it's brains splattering everywhere. Smirking at the gaping boy below him, Kurt offered his free hand. The curly haired boy gazed up at his savior. Blaine Anderson was in love.

Now steady on his feet, he slowly took back the bat with his left hand, his right still firmly grasped in Kurt's. Smiling he said, "Thanks."

Kurt's grin widened, "My pleasure."

"You have a little," Blaine gestured towards the boy's face, "something kinda splattered all over your face."

Kurt's smile surprisingly didn't fade, "I figured as much." He chuckled, "As do you."

A small part of Blaine's brain freaked out (blood was covering his face, someone's dead, decaying, diseased blood was on his face!) but the rest of his mind was either a) still processing all of this and/or b) didn't care as long as Kurt was holding his hand, smiling at him this way.

"Besides," Kurt added, "I have almost a year supply of moist towelettes in the car."

Blaine matched the other boy's wide smile, "Perfect." And he wasn't just talking about the wonders of a moist towelette.

"Hey guys!" David's voice broke through their moment, "You better start running unless you want to go 'boom goes the dynamite!'"

Seeing the manic glint in the boy's eyes even from fifteen feet away, Blaine tugged at Kurt's hand, barely leaving him time to scoop up his flamethrower before the two of them were sprinting towards the car. In no time, they were at the heels of the other two boys who, through their panting breaths, were laughing.

In the next instant an explosion shook the world and the sudden release of explosives and what not knocked the four to the ground.

Boom goes the zombies.

"Oof!"

"Shit!"

"HAHAHA!"

"MY CLOTHES!"

Ears ringing, his head feeling heavy and every inch of his body aching fiercely, Blaine coughed once, peeling his face off the asphalt floor and flopped onto his back. Throwing his arm over his eyes, Blaine focused on breathing for a moment before turning his head to peer at Kurt. The boy in question was slowing sitting up, looking positively disheveled, hair mussed up (and quite sexy looking in Blaine's opinion), face covered in dirt and blood, clothes filthy. Blaine turned his head and found Wes and David in similar positions. The boys made eye contact and maybe it the adrenaline, maybe it was the bizarre scenario, but whatever the case, they burst out laughing, the hysterical sound filling the area.

* * *

**So how did you like it? Part two coming soon!**


	2. Step 2: Do Not Get Killed

AN: Thank you so much to everyone who read, alerted, favorited, and a big thanks to everyone that took the time to review! Here is part two out of four. Hope you all enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter 2: Step 2: Do Not Get Killed by Zombies**

On the road agaiinnnnnnnnn (try not to sing this line), the boys were for the most part fine. Scraped up, blood-covered, dirt-covered, ears still ringing, Wes was driving this time. David was too busy pouting in the passenger seat over the fact that the storage unit was basically a useless effort. The boxes had blown up into itty bitty pieces along with the zombies.

In the back seat, equipped with a packet of moist towelettes, Kurt and Blaine were lightly scrubbing their faces clean. Blood was not good for their pores nor their complexions.

"Remind me to get you to use a different weapon when we're fighting close together," Blaine huffed while David sulked even more. "Awwwww but I like my little hand grenades!"

"I would like to not have my eyebrows singed right off!" Kurt snapped, turning his gaze from his compact mirror to the boy in front of him.

David huffed deeply and poked out his bottom lip even further than before, angling his body towards the window.

"Okay," Wes spoke, "David we'll get you a nice axe or something okay? You can use your grenades when we aren't so close together. And when we get to Liam, we should probably try and hit up a Walmart or something to stock up on the things we lost in the battle, agreed?" There was a general sense of agreement as indicated be the grunts and "mmhmms."

"Now that we have a plan, how about some music?" Blaine asked, almost finished wiping all the gunk off his face.

In hindsight, maybe it would have been best for Blaine to have stayed silent on regards to music, as an epic one handed (slap) battle took place in the front seat over who's Zombie Apocalypse Playlist (Really? What was wrong with these boys? Who makes a zombie apocalypse playlist?) got to be played. Blaine didn't want Daft Punk music (Wes' music), nor did he want soulful ballads about life (David's playlist). All he wanted was some easygoing Frank Sinatra tunes to calm the nerves or some Katy Perry just because, well, when isn't it a good time to play Katy Perry?

Blaine turned towards Kurt with a smile. Snapping the compact closed, Kurt put away his supplies and returned said smile. Taking Kurt's hands, Blaine traced little patterns on his palms. "Did I tell you that you look positively divine in your outfit?"

Kurt blushed, but held his gaze, "Have I told you I quite liked playing the white knight today?"

The other flushed slightly. "You fill the role nicely too."

As the song battle went on, Kurt and Blaine lost themselves in conversation, hands clasped tightly and smiles sweet. Had Wes and David been paying attention, they would have commented on the cavity-inducing sight.

Later, after half of Wes' playlist had played, with veto powers to David of course, a sudden stomping on the brakes by one Wesley Hughes had everyone in the car lurching forward as his partner (in crime, not in love... or, well, their relationship status was yet to be determined. The two were past "bromance" level.) David swore like a sailor under his breath.

Sitting up in alarm, the cuddling couple asked what the matter was, Kurt internally cursing the boy for being so harsh with his baby.

"Look!" Wes exclaimed, pointing out the windshield.

A hoard of the undead were walking (read: staggering) over the freeway, which had a sprinkle of abandoned cars resting on it. So that's what the rocking motion had been, Blaine thought. Wes had been swerving around the cars. Blaine had thought the world had gone unsteady as he fell into the pools of sheer brilliance that were Kurt's eyes. Blaine had kind of forgotten that the whole apocalypse thing was still happening. What were a few zombies compared to having Kurt's undivided attention and him in his arms as they spoke of everything and nothing at the same time?

Of course his attitude changed once the zombies started attacking the car.

David squeaked as a zombie banged on his window. "Drive Wes! Drive! For all that is holy, my gavel, my grenades, my endless supply of gummy worms hidden behind the back seat! Drive!"

More undead swamped the car and Blaine feared for their safety as the windows creaked under the pressure of zombies hammering on them.

"Usually I would brutally slaughter anyone who suggested anything that would damage or potentially damage my baby but in this instance I think it would be prudent for you to drive!" Kurt ranted, inching away from the walking dead crowding at the window, smearing blood on the glass. Absolutely freaking disgusting.

"Okay! Shit!" Wes screamed as he stomped on the accelerator.

Hundreds of thuds and "Arawcrrrrrr"s sounded as bodies collided with and bounced off the car while others were crushed under the wheels. In the rear-view, Blaine saw that the zombies were still running (read: quickly staggering) after them and only then did Blaine allow himself to breathe and loosened his death grip on his seat. "Oh thank god!"

For almost a mile there was a collective breath of relief until there was a loud scream (it didn't come from David, he swears). The car veered to the right and Wes slammed on the breaks as the rest of the passengers clutched on the 'oh shit' handle bars shrieking their heads off. Skidding, Wes overcompensated and his breath got stuck in his throat as Blaine could feel the car balance on two wheels.

"_Please don't flip_," Blaine silently prayed, eyes closed tightly.

Correcting his mistake, Wes got the car straightened out and it finally screeched to a halt.

"What the hell just happened!" David asked, uncurling his hands from their vise-like grip on his seat belt.

"The tire blew." Kurt breathed, his face pale and his fingers raw from holding tightly to the handle bar above his head.

All three boys turned to him. He gave them his patent Bitch Stare® (available for purchase...never. Kurt Hummel does not share his bitch stares), "You all forget that I'm a mechanic's kid. I grew up in my dad's garage."

Grumbling, Kurt threw open the door and hopped out. David looked panic, "Kurt! What are you doing? Get back in the car! Do not leave the safety of the car!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "And if we don't get out of the car what are we going to do, hmm? We can't exactly drive on a flat tire all the way to Lima. And there isn't anything out here." He gestured to the scenery around him.

Wes' eyes darted. "Never, never say something like that. The opposite will only come true and then you'll get snatched. It always happens."

Kurt sighed heavily, planting his hands on his hips. "Really, Wesley? I expected better from one of the top students at Dalton, but then again, you _are_ the one that has five different handbooks on what to do in case of zombie attacks." Moving to the rear of the car he threw open the back, moving boxes around until he found a latch in the back. "Now I'm going to replace the wheel and we can get out of here, okay?"

Wes turned off the engine and moved to get out. "Okay, agreed, but we'll stand watch to be sure nothing sneak attacks you." The other two nodded and got out, though it did take a few extra seconds for Blaine to unclick him seat belt. Shaking hands don't help with coordination.

Blaine watched Kurt as the boy heaved out the wheel and then took out a bedazzled toolbox. "Don't look at me like that, David. You should know by now that I like sparkly and shiny things."

The called out boy chuckled, taking up Kurt's flame thrower as his weapon of choice for this protection unit, "Yeah I can tell," he threw a glance towards Blaine.

Blaine scowled but said nothing, his eyes flying back to obsess over Kurt (and his body). He did _not_ stare as the boy bent over and started working at the nut… of the wheel. That isn't dirty in the least. None of this scene is sexual in the least. Blaine did not gulp as he admired Kurt's ass. Nor did he stare for a minute until Wes kicked his shin. Looking at his and David's smug faces, Blaine turned away from Kurt and scanned the highway, trying to distract himself from the dirty gutter minded thoughts. Impure, impure! A gentleman never thinks impure thoughts!

Eyes roaming the horizon, he then spotted a blob at the edge of his vision, seeming to be walking their direction on the freeway. A few seconds passed and more blobs joined the first until a huge mass of them were walking towards them. Cocking his head to the left, Blaine squinted, trying to bring the figures into focus. Sensing his confusion Wes and David stood on either side of him, they too confused by the mass heading towards them.

"Um guys," Blaine spoke, "Do they look like zombies to you? Or am I just becoming paranoid?"

"Nope," Wes shook his head, "I think you're right Anderson. Kinda looks like zombies to me."

Over his shoulder, David asked trying his best to keep his voice even, "So Kurt, how much longer until you're done?"

Kurt puffed his bangs out of his eyes, unable to push them away with grease on his hands, "About ten minutes, why?"

"Can you make that like three? Or even shorter?" David asked, panic beginning to seep into his tone.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Impatient much? Why the big rush?" He stood and joined the ranks. His eyes widened comically as he took in the sight the others stared at. "Oh."

"Yeah... oh." David echoed.

"I'll make it three minutes." Kurt nodded before pivoting and throwing himself to the ground, frantically finishing the last of the bolts and changing out the tire.

Blaine turned to him, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, extra hands will just get in the way," Kurt replied hurriedly, his brow furrowed in concentration, trying to speed up the process.

The sounds of the dead could now be heard, many "Ehhhhrr"s and "Ahhrraaaaa"s and a couple of "Uggllssssss"s. Kurt could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form as his heart kicked into overdrive and a sense of dread settled heavily in his stomach.

"Hey, hey Kurt," Wes began, his grip on his gun tightening, "How-"

"Shut. Up. Wes." Kurt demanded through his teeth, working on the bolts, the new tire in place.

The zombies moved in closer, pace spurred faster as they spotted them. They had apparently been chasing them for the one mile they had managed to drive before the tire incident. Blaine felt his grip on his bat grow slippery as his hands began to sweat profusely. They were getting so close that Blaine could see the details of their gory faces now.

He really _was_ going to die a virgin, wasn't he? He could not seem to escape that fate. It wasn't fair! The least he could get was an intense make out session with the boy he heavily crushed on that happened to be right behind him, right? Was that too much to ask?

Bringing his bat up he tried to shake off the inappropriate, hormonal, hysterical thoughts and readied to fight to his death.

"Can I use my grenades now?" David whispered, "Like can I chuck 'em at the zombies? There's no point and if we're going to die we might as well take them out with us right?"

"It's your time to shut up now, David," Wesley said, taking aim at the swarming mass. "We are _not _dying today."

Firing off a couple of shots, blood splattered and the zombies seemed to speed forward. The first body fell dead (again? finally dead?) and it was open battle.

"Hey, Kurt?" Blaine called over his shoulder, chancing a glance before keeping his eyes peeled on the things trying to kill him.

"Yes Blaine?" Kurt asked tensely, working as fast as he possibly could, fearing for his life, fearing for the three boys' lives, fearing...everything, really.

The three boys were now forming a half circle around him as the zombies finally closed in. Wes shot rapidly now, David released the flames on the undead, and Blaine swung when they got too close.

"If we get out of here and after we check up on your family and if we can find somewhere safe, maybe a nice little island where there is no blood or cannibalism or zombies trying to kill us every 10 minutes, and though we'd probably have to bring Wes and David along because they are horribly co-dependent and I'll probably be the last to admit that maybe I'm dependent on them as well, would you like to go on a date with me?" Blaine babbled nervously.

Unable to see his face he waited for the reply, "Really Blaine?" Kurt said finally after a moment's pause, "You ask me here, now? While Wes is shooting, I'm covered in dirt, blood, and grease, kneeling on the pavement in one of my favorite pairs of jeans with my hair a bird's nest of mess and you gripping a bloodied, brain bits covered bat? You ask me out _now_?" The boy rolled his eyes, "Of course you do, and course I would. And I will. Because we are getting out. Of. Here." He grunted at the end as the last bolt locked into place.

"What?" Blaine yelled over Wes' now never-ceasing rain of bullets.

"I said we're getting out of here!" Kurt shouted and stood, throwing his tool box into the back, "I'm done! Get in the car!" He yanked on the three boys to get their attention, and they booked it into the car.

Kurt, throwing himself into the driver's seat while Blaine slipped into the passenger's side, dancing away from the gripping, reaching, deadly hands and mouths of the zombies. Wes and David jumped in, barreling into the back seat, Wes firing over his shoulder. The zombies threw themselves at the last two, trying to crowd inside. David crawled over the bench seat and held Wes' shoulders tightly as the zombies pulled at his ankles until the boy was able to kick them away, firing at the same time. With the first front dead, the tugging ceased and Wes hurriedly sprung forward and whipped the door shut, locking it.

Blaine shouted, "Go! Go! Go!" as he saw everyone safely make it into the confines of the vehicle.

"Shit," Kurt breathed out. The other boys could only nod, mumbling,"shit" as well. Because, well..._shit_!

Blaine rested his head against the headrest (it's called that for a reason isn't it?), his body turning into a liquid pool of nerves and relief. He released a deep, heavy sigh and closed his eyes. The car was silent for about two miles as the boys let their hearts return to a normal rate and they caught their breath and ceased their prayers for help. Then the two boys in the back began to whisper back and forth. Blaine and Kurt let that go on for about ten minutes, before Kurt finally snapped, "What are you guys auguring over now?"

"David apparently doesn't believe that I've now slain fifty zombies." Wes huffed, glaring at his partner in crime.

"There is no way Wes has killed fifty zombies. And I beat with the extra points I earned with the explosion from my grenade." David countered.

"Yeah, by almost killing us all!"

"I helped back there using Kurt's flamethrower, compared to Blaine who did nothing but confess his love to Kurt!"

"Still doesn't change the fact you've only killed fifteen at the most!"

"No! I've at least killed twice as much as that. 30, I'd say!"

Turning to Blaine, Kurt stared at him for a moment, before moving his eyes back to road, "Turn on some music would you please? Maybe something nice to drown out their bickering?"

Blaine smiled back sweetly. "As you wish."

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**So, hoped you guys liked chapter two! I'll probably update Thursday with the next installment. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Step 3: Plan C: Go to Walmart

**AN: A little sad over the lack of responses for last chapter but eh, not going to beg for reviews. Thanks again to everything that took the time to review and just drop a line! Without further ado here is the next installment!**

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Chapter 3: Step 3: Plan C, Go to Walmart

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Blaine didn't know if he could classify the rest of the drive to Liam as a pleasant drive or not.

And if he was considering a drive full of loud music to drown out Wes and David's non-stop bickering, Kurt swerving several times a mile to avoid things in the street, and blowing through masses of zombies they encountered in the road, a pleasant drive, then something seriously was wrong if that now was the norm in his life.

Would it have been horribly cliché of him to say that there's no place like home? Extremely so, but it was true.

And by home he meant Dalton, in the commons shyly flirting with Kurt and messing around with Wes and David after class.

The sign "Welcome to Lima, Ohio" appeared on the side of the road and David's hand appeared from the back seat and reached to lower the music.

"So how much longer to your house?" he asked

Kurt raised his delicate eyebrow. "Pray tell David, why do you ask?"

"Dude, I have to pee and I'm starving. So how much longer?" David whined.

"Fifteen minutes, David. Just cross your legs and don't think about water," Kurt advised.

Wes smirked. "Water! Water! Swishhh," Wes continued to make water noises in David's ear. David punched him and soon there was an all out brawl in the backseat.

Blaine rolled his eyes and traded exsaperated smiles with Kurt, turning up the music once more to drown out the boys' antics.

When they turned down Kurt's street, Blaine could see the obvious strain on the boy as his hands gripped the wheel. His posture became rigid and his breathing became shallow and quick. Blaine wanted to reassure the boy, take his hand and whisper words of confidence but he knew that shallow promises would only be more harmful right now. A strong shoulder to lean on if things didn't go well would be the best in this situation. So as Kurt parked his car and approached the house, Blaine walked a step behind him off to the side, their hands brushing.

The first thing Kurt noticed was that he didn't need his key to unlock the door, it was already opened and slightly ajarred. Pushing open the door, Kurt entered, all three boys right behind him. Wes and David had weapons in hand, just in case.

"Dad? Carole? Finn?" Kurt called out to the darkened house. His heart began to sink and he felt physically ill. He refused to believe no one was home until he saw with his own eyes that there was no one occupying his house.

Kurt walked through the living room and continued to the kitchen, empty, he walked down the hall and checked inside the bathroom... nothing. He checked his dad's room...no one. Back tracking, he went downstairs to his and Finn's room... bare. Kurt sunk onto his bed, face emotionless, mask slowly sliding back into place. Wes and David exchanged glances, non-verbally agreeing that this was not their place and retreated back upstairs. Blaine cautiously approached Kurt and sat beside him. The silence was overwhelming.

"They're gone. My family's gone. Where did they go Blaine?" Kurt whispered. Almost inaudibly he said, "Why did they leave without me?"

"I don't know Kurt, I'm sorry," Blaine wrapped his arm around the boy and pulled him close, "Do you have any other family that they might have gone to?"

Kurt shook his head, "There's my Aunt Milred on my dad's side but she lives in Illinois and I doubt they would drive out to there. We haven't talked to any of Mom's side of the family since she died. And I don't know about Carole's family. I only met them briefly at the wedding." Kurt pulled out his cell phone out of his pocket and glared at it. "I just wish this worked! I just wish I could call and find my dad!"

Kurt stood up suddenly and in a fit of anger and frustration, threw the phone, the device smashing against the far wall. Tears welled up in his eyes and he collapsed back onto the bed, "I just wish my dad was here. I just want to know if he's alive and safe."

Dapper!Gentlemanly!Blaine didn't feel very dapper nor very gentlemanly. He was at a loss for words. He had no idea how to comfort Kurt, so he went with his gut, hoping it wouldn't tell him bad advice, he pulled him in and wrapped his arms around the slender boy's body. Kurt's back shook as he cried into Blaine's shoulder, gripping tightly at his lapel.

The crying ceased relatively quickly and Blaine watched as Kurt pulled back and wiped at his eyes, clearly embarrassed, "Sorry, you know, for the break down. And getting salt water and snot on your jacket."

Blaine waved it off, "It's fine Kurt."

When Kurt finally calmed down, he gestured towards the stairs and he and Blaine walked up them.

Casting the room one last look, Kurt pivoted and all but marched out. Blaine followed at a more sedated pace. He paused at the foot of the stairs and glanced back at the room. A part of his mind wondered if either of them would ever see it again. Flipping the light switch, he sent the bright white room into darkness.

Blaine felt like it was oddly symbolic.

Wes, David, and Kurt stood by the door waiting for him, "Ready?" Wes asked the group.

Kurt looked panicked for a second, "Hold on for sec, okay?" He sped out of the living room and a second later, reappeared with a pastel blue, green and lavender scarf tied around his throat and an all but black bandanna stained with grease tied off around his left arm.

Instinctively Blaine knew that those two things belonged to his parents, the scarf one of his mother's stored in her old perfumed stained dresser and one of his father's cloths that he used to wipe his hands with at the garage. Blaine felt a pang of sadness for Kurt.

"Ready?" Kurt said brightly, mask fully in place and his emotions shut off. Blaine saw as they walked out of the living room the way Kurt stared at the room maybe for the final time. Breathing out, the boy's eyes closed as though trying to commit every detail of his childhood home to memory. And as they left, Kurt closed the front door softly without a backwards glance, a goodbye in his eyes.

"So Walmart?" David said as they piled back into the car, same seats called. "Where's a Walmart in this town? We need essentials ASAP since out plan B failed."

"What was plan A?" Blaine asked.

"Get the supplies from Dalton, but there was hardily anything worth taking," Wes answered.

David continued, "You would think that a school full of hardy, growing boys that they would stock up a bit more? Anyways, since we are a bit behind schedule we need water, food, maybe an aluminum bat for Blainey boy since I guarantee that a few more good wackes and that wooden bat will be done for. And maybe some more fuel for your flamethrower Kurt."

Kurt nodded, seeming to throw himself into this new task in oppose to dwelling on his sadness. "Alright, there's a Walmart just past my old school."

"Onward and upward!" Wes shouted.

David gestured wildly, "Mush! On Donner and Blizten and Comet and … some other random names, and Roldoph!"

Rolling his eyes Kurt started the car and embarked on the familiar path to McKinley. But as they drove down Titan Drive they were stunned to find a …blockade?

Huh.

David whistled as Kurt slowed to a stop outside of the huge blockade. It was a massive thing. A huge metal fortress that was at least thirty feet high with additional turret like towers built into the walls. And was that a glimpse of red and white among the grey and silver of the steeled fortress?

Yup.

Uniformed clad Cheerios wielding machine guns pacing on the walls of the castles?

You betcha.

"Who goes there?" A voice boomed from behind the wall, a megaphone poking through a porthole about four feet from the ground.

But even a megaphone couldn't disguise the voice of one Becky Jackson. Smiling to himself, Kurt parked the car and humped out, hands raised in surrender. "Becky? Becky it's me, Kurt! Kurt Hummel."

"Kurt!" she bubbled. "Kurt, Mrs. Sylvester wants to talk to you. She told me that when you arrive I need to bring you directly to her office."

Kurt nodded, accepting that Coach said 'when' he gets here not 'if.' "Okay Becky." But the steel door did not move. "Becky?" Kurt called out, questioning.

"Are you sure you're the real Kurt and not a zombie?" Becky boomed out from her megaphone.

Kurt sighed but couldn't really argue with the girl. If he was manning a castle-like structure, he too would question everyone before entrance. Probably a la Wizard of Oz if he did say so himself, but maybe without the rainbow horses. That would be a bit much, even for him. "How do you want to prove that it's me, Bec?" Kurt asked, shrugging.

Becky thought. Blaine slowly slipped out of the car, Wes and David behind him as they took a few steps away from the vechile, but they didn't dare approach further.

"Only the real Kurt can do our Fame routine." Becky announced. "And remember to sing... maybe!Kurt."

"Can I go to my car and get my music?" Kurt asked, accepting the challenge, even if it had been close to four months since he had even practiced let alone do a full routine.

"Yup!" Becky nodded, her face in the porthole instead of the megaphone.

Kurt pranced back to the car, passing his boys (who really should have been in the car), grabbed his iPod, turned his car back on and let the music blast out of the open door. A very deep bass began as a mash up of Teeth and I Like It Rough from Lady Gaga started to play.

Blaine was sure he had been killed by salivating, squawking undead and now he had gone to teenage hormone (sexually frustrated) heaven as Kurt bent over and rolled back up as the opening rhythm began. The way Kurt rolled his hips sent his heart racing and he felt his pulse drumming in his throat. His hands started to sweat and his face was flushed. Kurt flipped and cartwheeled over the pavement, singing high above the bass and then singing in that deeper tone of his (ugh Blaine's mind asked if that's what Kurt's sex voice would be like, hnngg). A sexy smirk on his lips as he shimmed in his tight clothing, allowing Blaine see every curve, Kurt continued to dance. It was kind of embarrassing how turned on Blaine was.

Undapper thoughts. Truly undapper thoughts.

As the music ended Blaine coughed and shifted his weight from foot to foot trying to get his mind out of (-he and Kurt ravishing each other on the hood of the car-) the gutter. He tried to replace his thoughts with old Mrs. Caline and her lowcut shirts at the age of sixty-five, leaning over his desk as she helped him out in calculus and those veiny girly bits. With those unsatisfying thoughts, his slacks weren't as uncomfortably tight as they had been and his pulse lowered from its dangerous level. Sexy Kurt was sexy.

Kurt straightened his shirt and pushed his hair back in place a satifised gleam of a smile on his face. It felt good to know that he could still pull off Coach Sylvester's crazy routines.

Becky started to clap and she grinned widely at Kurt, "Yay! You're Kurt!"

Then suddenly Brittany's face replaced Becky's in the porthole and she was positively beaming at him. "Baby boo! You're here! Yay!" She looked liked she was going to say more but then she was pulled back, and the door began to slide open, the steel grating over the blacktop.

When the door fully opened Brittany ran out, high pony tail swinging and she all but tackled him peppering his face with kisses, muttering 'soft hands' and 'her dolphin' and 'baby gay' between the kisses. Kurt giggled and squeezed her back. He missed the girl tremendously. Santana was slower in her approach, sashaying over with her arms crossed a smirk firmly plastered on her face. As Brittany extracted herself from his arms, Santana cuffed Kurt over the head none-too-gently.

"Ow... bitch!" Kurt grumbled, rubbing at his head while making sure his hair wasn't out of place.

She smiled widely, "That's for worrying Brittany all this time." Though her eyes were glaring there was an underlying sense of relief, the 'and me' unsaid but not unheard.

Kurt rolled his eyes at her silent form of communication, hugged her lightly and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Missed you too, Satan."

She scowled at him and did an about face. "You should hurry up Lady Face. Drive that sweet ass ride of yours in and we'll go see everyone."

In five minutes, after the boys had piled back into the car, drove past the gates into McKinley, parked the car near the entrance of the school, got out, followed Becky, Britt and Santana down the hallway, Kurt was stunned at the differences in the school. People walked the tiled floors in straight lines and not in masses of bodies, and everything looked, well... better! It was more organized, cleaner, brighter? Was this real life?

"Hey, Santana?" Kurt asked as they walked (strutted) down the hallway.

"Yeah Elton John?"

"If you and Brit are here, is anyone else here? Like Mercedes or Tina or-" Kurt tried not to get his hopes up, it was a stupid hope that maybe his -

"Spit it out Barry Manilow." Santana snapped.

"Is my dad here? And Carole and Finn?" Kurt asked in a rush, breath catching in his throat.

Santana nodded, "Yeah, I think they're with everyone else in the choir room right now."

Eyes wide and about to fill with tears Kurt, burst down the hall at a full sprint (screw composure). Navigating his way through the familiar halls to the choir room, Kurt threw open the door.

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**Short, I know, but it felt like a good break. Last bit uploaded Saturday, I want this done before Glee comes back. Glee! Ahhh! Cant wait! Well, hoped you all liked it, not too funny, a little more angsty. Well thanks for reading!**


	4. Step 4: Always, Always Listen to Sue

AN: Wow, thanks everyone for all the support! Well, sadly this is the last bit, hope you all enjoy it! So sorry I didn't update on Saturday like I said I would, but one day late isn't that bad right? Let's give my amazing, wonderful, (not enough words in the English language to express her greatness) beta DJDizzy! If you all like my stories, I know you'll love hers!

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**Chapter 4: Step 4: Always, always listen to Sue**

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"Dad." Kurt beamed.

Burt turned, staring at his son with eyes shimmering with relief and overwhelming love. "Kurt," He said gruffly and in a few long strides wrapped Kurt in a tight bear hug, "Thank goodness. You're okay. You're here." Softer, Kurt heard his father whispered, "Thank you Mollie."

Kurt hugged his father back just as fiercely, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears he could feel coming. "I'm fine Dad. I'm okay." He reassured his father.

Burt pulled back and with both hands gripping Kurt's shoulders, he ran his eyes over Kurt's frame, checking, double checking that he had all the essentials, 10 fingers and all. Kurt smiled, a silent signal that everything was fine.

Before Burt could say anything else, Carole was suddenly in his arms, small tears splattering against his neck. Kurt chuckled softly and lightly patted her on the back, "It's okay Carole, I'm here. Everyone's fine. I'm fine."

She cupped his face with both hands and stared into his eyes. Without any words she kissed him on the forehead. She stepped back to stand next to Burt and with his arms empty, Kurt was all but tackled to the floor by his friends. His arms were full of some fierce Mercedes, with awkward patting Finn at his back. Tina, Quinn and Rachel were hugging him and with a cry of "Group hug! I love hugs!" from the recently caught up Brittany, Kurt found himself in a dog pile of teenagers. The room was then full of excited, nervous chatter, everyone shouting over everyone else.

Puck asked, "That's a pretty wicked bruise on the side of your head, Hummel. How badass where you out there?"

Artie wheeled himself through the crowd and gave him a fist bump, "Yo dude, glad you made it back."

Rachel smiled at him sweetly, like the smiles they shared at Sectionals. "Now I expect you to keep the screaming to a bare minimum. Even if you are being chased by over twenty zombies, that's no excuse for you to damage your vocal chords.

Mercedes dusted at his shouders. "What have you gone through white boy? You like you battled a whole army of the undead to get here."

Mike patted him on the back and Sam gave him a half hug. "Glad you got back safe dude."

Before anyone could say anything else, Becky was suddenly in the middle of the fray, tugging at Kurt's arm roughly. "Kurt! Coach still wants to talk to you. She said to bring you there immediately."

Kurt bit back a sigh. He didn't want to leave the confines of the warmth of friendship at this moment but knew that if he refused her will, then he could kiss his genetalia goodbye. Hugging everyone again he announced, "I'll be back guys. Coach Sylvester wanted to see me, like five minutes ago." Everyone in New Directions nodded, understanding Kurt's urgency. It was never _ever_ good to piss off Coach Sylvester.

Hugging Carole and his dad again, he gestured to Blaine, Wes and David (who had stood awkwardly in the doorway, unable to take the sudden noise that was New Directions. They had feared for their lives, thinking that the group hug was one jostle away from being a mosh pit.) to follow him, "Come on, I'm not going to bear the insanity that is Sue Sylvester alone."

Retreating back out of the classroom to mournful remarks of, "Fare thee well Kurt," and "nice knowing you," and a smirk with a catty remark from Santana, "Don't scream when she kills you, Muppet boy. It only entices the beast more."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt followed Becky as she lead them to the pricipal's office and through the glass Kurt could see Sue Sylvester in all her authortive glory. Becky said, "Wait here."

Becky peeped in, "Coach Sylvester, ruler of the world: Kurt Hummel and three blood covered boys are here to see you."

Sue grinned and sat behind her desk, "Good, send them in Becky."

"Okay Coach!" Becky turned to the boys. "Coach will see you now."

Kurt looked down to the zipper of his pants, gulping. He had no doubt Sue could make good on her promise to hack off his "never to be dropped nads" and turn them into "a sad, empty pouch of flesh" if he dared cross her. He let out a loud breath and pulled himself to his full height.

Kurt pushed open the door, but before entering he turned abruptly to his friends and warned, "Do not talk unless spoken to, and even then most times it is best to remain silent. Unless, of course, you would like to join me in being a countertenor when she castrates you."

Squeaking in horror, David clung to Wes while Wes whispered, "Please go after short midgets first." Blaine glared at Wes but followed Kurt inside.

Sue smirked at the boys. "Porcelain, glad to know that your flighty ways and obvious superior brain activity has kept you alive thus far. And what have you brought me? Hobbits it seems? So which one is your man candy that I've heard you been dry humping in dark corners? Is it the one that looks like a cross breed between Schuester and Frodo or one of the two girly named hobbits?" Sue greeted the bunch behind the desk, but instead of the name tag reading Principal Sue Sylvester it read "Superior Ruler Sylvester." If Kurt hadn't been so worried about keeping his private parts intact, he would have cracked a smile at the name tag. Only Sue...

Blaine shrunk back at the biting tone and he felt David and Wes shift in closer to him as the woman rose from her seat and approached the four of them.

"Now Porcelain, I have something of great importance to discuss with you. Sit." Kurt sat quickly and the boys followed, Wes and David fighting for the last seat but Blaine slid by and claimed the remaining chair with a smug grin.

"There are very few people I would trust with this mission and with Preggers' brain still mush from pregnancy hormones and she is sadly too lust-filled from the Ken doll's infatuation. She's out. I fear Santana's overly large breasts would get in the way and or be too distracting. So, Porcelain, I knew that you would find yourself here, just like I know that you will take this job."

Kurt raised one manicured eyebrow slowly, intrigued by this. "And what exactly is this mission Coach?"

"There's been chatter that the cure for this whole thing," she loftily waved her hand around, "has been discovered. Some jewfro lesbian hippy in California has found this so called cure between his bouts of crying over his virginity and inability to find someone of the opposite, or hell, the same sex, that is attracted to him and sticking large objects between his freakishly gaped teeth." Sue leaned in close, particularly nose to nose with Kurt, "And I. Want. It!" Slamming her hand down on the desk for emphasis, she leaned back. She stared steadily at the boy, "And you Tickle Me Doe Face, will get me this cure."

Kurt stayed cool on the outside, partially interested. "What do you get out of this?" He inquired.

Sneering at him, she looked as if to respond with harsh threats and critical abuse but then seemed to change her mind. "Though it is none of your business Lady Face, I will humor you and answer your question. Just this one time though. If you question me once more I will not be responsible for shaving off those girlishly plucked eye brows and feeding your Pinocchio like figure to the crocodiles that are going to fill the waters of my moat that the idiotic football players are digging. Understood?"

"Of course Coach." Kurt smiled, secretly amused by her threats. After being a Cheerio and months, countless hours of abuse screamed his way, his fear threshold had nearly tripled when it came to one Coach Sylvester. Especially since he knew deep, down, in the crevices of her blackened soul, there was a tiny bead of like towards him. With the knowledge that she actually cared for him, her creative and out of this world threats amused him now. He still had no doubt she would cause harm to his man-bits. He saw Trevor Ellis learn that lesson the hard way. Ouch.

"So what's in it for me?" Kurt had to ask.

"When you get me this cure and after I use it to vie for my presidency, a bribery of sorts if you will, then I can make you the youngest ambassador to the United Kingdom."

Kurt looked up at the ceiling, thinking this over. "Youngest ambassador to France, and a full ride scholarship to the school of my choosing and you have yourself a deal."

Sue smirked, like she had expected such a thing. "Agreed."

Holding out her hand, they shook on it, "Rainbow Bright, I'm glad you're back."

Kurt nodded, smiling tightly. "Me too."

Crossing his legs, he glanced to his right and bashfully realized that he wasn't the only one in the room. Blaine looked mildly terrified, even with his dapper shields up and shinning, and with a glance to his left, Wes and David looked absolutely ready to piss themselves. That was the usual reaction to more than a minute spent in Sue Sylvester's presence.

Seeing where his eyes went and the worry beginning to creep into them Sue said, "And take your merry band of elfs with you. I need someone to act as bait when the zombies try bearing down to try and taste your sweet virgin blood." Blaine winced.

Kurt nodded. "Now take a shower! You smell like death. And while I usually enjoy and cherish the smell of killing the enemy, I need you to be smelling of victory before you set off. Stay the night here but at first light, I fully expect you and your harem to be off in that paradox known as your car. Really, who puts a gay milk maid in a beast of a car? And if you don't follow my instructions, I will shave off Shirly Temple's hair here," she gestured at Blaine, "And force you to glue it your body and forever wear nothing but his devastating hair. Really Frodo, get a hair cut."

Kurt smirked at Sue, "I'm going to raid your supply closet before heading out, of course." The supply closest was actually an entire wing of the school that was no longer in use and stored everything and anything from weapons to food to clothes. Apparently her 'supply closet' to only be used when McKinley would rage a blockage against the rest of the world was actually going to come in handy.

Sue nodded, "I would expect nothing less. Dismissed!"

Kurt left the room in relatively good spirits and headed towards the auditorium. Blaine, Wes and David dumbly followed him.

"Wh-Wha... what was that?" Blaine stuttered, his eyes still bugged out.

Kurt shook his head and let out a chuckle. "That, my dear, was a thing we call Sue Sylvester."

"And are we really going to go steal that cure?" Wes asked, eyes still wide in horror. Kurt knew those eyes wouldn't return to their usual size until at least an hour later, or after a good cry. He knew from experience.

Kurt gave him a look that just read, 'are you stupid' and for a second Wes relaxed. Oh thank god they weren't going to do something so stupid as travelling over half the nation for a cure that they didn't even know for certain existed for a clearly bat shit insane woman would wanted to be president. Thank God...right?

Right?

But Kurt dashed that relief when he said, "Of course we are! You don't tell Coach that you're going to do something and then back out. When Jenny agreed to do a basket toss three stories high and then refused to do after she watched a video online where a girl died, well, let's just say Jenny really should have agreed. So unless you come with me and remain here and Sue finds out, let's just say that hopefully you're a secret cannibal and enjoy eating yourself."

Wes paled, and chocked out, "Oh, okay, I think I'd rather come with you. I think I'll be safer out there then in here."

Kurt smirked, "You have no idea how true that is Wesley."

Linking hands with Blaine, he smiled at all of them and said, "Now let's take a shower, find some new clothes, get supplies and head out. I cannot wait for this to be over. I can hear Paris calling my name!"

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**Fin**

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AN: And that's the end folks! Hope you all enjoyed it! Fun fact, this was originally going to be a oneshot, but with some insight from my beta, she and I came to the conclusion that almost 11,000 words was too long for a simple oneshot, so I split it up.

Thank you so much to everyone that added this to alerts, to favorites, to author alerts and especially to those who reviewed!


	5. Step 5: THIS IS NOT IN THE PLANS!

AN: Because so many of you asked so kindly I decide why not continue? I mean I had no idea what I was going to be do but I figured I'm not really working on any of my other ff stories seriously so I might as well write something so this is bred from that thought. Updates might be a little slower since the other chapters were prewritten and then posted but hopefully I can write and finish it before long.

Due to the fact that my beta has disappeared, all mistakes are mine and are probably frequent, this is me aplogizing, sorry! :/

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Part 2: Chapter 5: Step 5: THIS IS NOT IN THE PLANS !

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"Kurt, I beseech you to reconsider. This is a suicide mission!" Wes began, pleading as Kurt zipped up the last of his bags.

David continued, standing in front of the boy, puppy-dog look firmly in place, it always works on Blaine when he and Wes want to do something 'dangerous' 'reckless' and or 'incredibly stupid you idiots, you'll die!' "Really, how can you expect to drive cross country, steal this cure, and bring it back?"

Kurt decided that for all the fun Wes and David have, they really do not understand the concept of it. How didn't they know that this so called 'suicide mission' (pshhh! Rolls eyes, this is not a suicide mission, a suicide mission was having Sue tie in to the bottom of the pool so he would learn how to hold his breath for fourteen minutes in preparation for singing for fourteen minutes all the while flipping, cartwheeling, and flying besides the rest of the Cheerios.) was going to be simple, really.

He resisted the urge to say "You think driving to California, bashing through the hoards of zombies, breaking into hippy guys's place, stealing the cure, driving back and delivering right to Coach's hands, try – insert any number of things he was forced to due at practice, that's hard!"

Kurt resisted, just barely.

"Wes, David, I don't see why you're complaining. We get to go to California, say it with me! Cali-freakin-fornia! And the whole time we get to be zombie fighting, didn't you two say that was the best part of this apocalypse? Well here's your opportunity to shine! To be epic badasses!"

David exchanged looks with Wes, "That sounds great and everything, but I, I just think,"

Wes blurted out, "It's not in plans okay! Going to California, getting this cure, it's just not in our Seven Step Plan!"

Kurt could literally hear the capital letters of that plan. Raising his brow in silence, a 'bitch I don't care about your previous plan' look firmly on his face he turned to Blaine who silently watched the exchange, "What do you think Blaine? Do you want to drive across the country, _alone_, without any parental supervision, with me? One a slightly dangerous but really it will be like taking candy from a drugged up hippy boy mission? Afterwards maybe we can stop by the beach, sunshine, swimming, _swimsuits_. What do you say, think you can handle it?"

Kurt's eyes were a bright blue and green mix, like the sea they were speaking of. Blaine blinked, brain stuttering over the words, "alone with Kurt," "swimsuits," "alone with Kurt." His mouth ran dry and he swallowed thickly. Clearing his throat he announced, "I think this will be fun!" Eyes still locked on Kurt he said to Wes, "Plans can always change."

Still starring, he missed the way David rolled his eyes at Wes. "Fine but if you and Kurt don't stop eye sexing we'll let the zombies eat you. Simple as that."

Blaine felt his ears burn and ducked his head a bit. Kurt smirked at David, "So you're coming then?"

Wes nodded, "We're like the musketeers or something to that magnitude, where you guys go, we'll go. Except when you go have sex on the beach, we'll stay in the car."

"Or get some ice cream," David beamed.

"And then maybe take a stroll on the pier." Wes added.

David's eyes lit up, "Oh! On the Santa Monica Pier, I've always wanted to go there!"

For the millionth time, Blaine absently wondered about Wes' and David's relationship. At times it really did go beyond a simple bromance. And he wondered if their girlfriends weren't just sad little beards.

"Good, now that we have that settled, finish packing. I'm going to tell my family about this little escapee of ours."

"Wait, Kurt!" Blaine graped at Kurt's hand, "What are you going to tell them? I can't see your dad being okay with this."

Kurt smiled ruefully, "Oh, I know. Do you have any reasons as to why your family is in California?"

Blaine scrunched his brows together in confusion, "What?"

"I might weave a small tale about our need to go to California to visit your wayward parents and be sure they are fine."

Blaine looked warningly at him, "Kurt…"

Rolling his eyes, he waved Blaine off, "Yes, yes, mother dearest, I know I shouldn't lie. But like you said, my dad will never let me go and Coach Sylvester literally has me by the throat on this. I cannot not do it. Besides, my dad doesn't have to know that we have a side mission to checking up on your imaginary family out west."

Blaine frowned, "I don't know if we should do this without your father's consent."

Kurt all but rolled his eyes, "You're talking like you need my father's blessing in my hand in marriage or something. We're just going on a mission,"

Wes butted in, "And even if you guys decided to be spontaneous and reenact a drunken Las Vegas type of night, Prop 8 was overturned last fall,"

"Yeah, Blaine, so why do we need to be sure to have Kurt's 'father's consent'?" David slapped Blaine on his back, good naturally.

Blaine opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again but just wordlessly gaped liked a fish. Kurt pressed his lips together to keep in the small chuckle and smile in at Blaine's speechlessness. "Alrighty, ta ta for now boys!" With a little wiggle of his fingers he flounced out of the room and down the stairs to the choir room.

Blaine silently watched him leave and Wes and David laughed into their hands at their friend's face of disbelief. "You really lost that small argument splendidly my friend."

"You're back quickly," Wes said, the first to notice Kurt's appearance in their commandeered classroom in the west hall way.

"How'd it go?" Blaine asked with a questioning tilt of his head.

"_Kurt you are not, I repeat, not leaving this school let alone this state while there are zombies attacking everyone let alone everything that moves!" _

"_Dad! I'm seventeen years old. In a year I'll be eighteen! In a year I would have been in college, living out of state without any familiar faces." _

_Hell, hopefully, in a year that plan will still be inaction. Hopefully with many trips to France to prepare for his new position. Not that his dad needed to know of this. Kurt will just file this information under the 'little lie that every teen tells/withholds from their parents' file. Because, you know, every teen has bargained to become Ambassador to France. _

"_Kurt! No. Okay, just no! I can't lose you,"_

"_I know Dad," he said softly, "But you can't keep me locked up forever. You have to let me do this."_

Kurt smiled, "It went fine!" Lie. "My dad was totally fine with this." Big fat ugly lie. Wes and David nodded and went back to studying the map they had found of the Midwest and west of the country, figuring out the quickest route.

Only Blaine gave some pause. "Really?"

Kurt beamed, "Yup! We're all ready to leave at first light tomorrow."

"Once we have a plan," David said.

Wes nodded, "Yup. Always need a plan, well you should always have a whole multitude of plans, but for now, one will work and we can come up with plan b's and c's and m's later."

Breaking eye contact with Blaine, Kurt turned to smile thinly at the other two and move towards them as he spoke, "Right. So how's the planning gone since I left?"

As the two boys launched into their often over the top and high strung plans, Blaine walked across the room and came up behind Kurt, whispering in his ear he said, "You know you don't have to lie to me."

Kurt didn't respond but instead threw his two cents into David's and Wes' new plan.

"Don't,"

"But-"

"No!"

"But Kurt!"

"Absolutely not Blaine! Okay?"

"I don't see what the big problem is!"

"If you play Katy Perry one more time I will personally use all five jars of hair you brought as my new lighter fluid for my flamethrower!"

"Like Lady Gaga is any better!" Blaine snapped back.

Two loud gasps came from the back seat.

Kurt decided he could risk looking away from the debris/zombie laden road to give Blaine the nastiest of all death stares. "Do not even go there."

Blaine shook his head, "I don't see why-"

"No," Kurt interrupted, "Just no. No more talking"

And with a twist, he unplugged Blaine's iPod, plugged in his and let the familiar sounds of Mika play in his car. Kurt tried to ignore the small sense of guilt he felt rattling the lining of his stomach. He kind of, sort of, actually really left his dad high and dry by sneaking out of McKinley at dawn with the three boys, dragging all their bags (almost 3 each, filled with enough supplies that should last them two weeks, more than enough time to get there and back) off to his car and speeding off without so much as a goodbye to his dad, Carole, Finn or any other of his friends. He left a note. A rather pitiful note really.

"Dad" it read, "I'm sorry but I really have to California. You can ground me when I get back and this is all over. I promise I'll be safe. I love you. Sorry again, Kurt."

Yeah, kind of a shitty note on his part, he knew.

Before Kurt could start to wallow in the thought that he should just be handed the 'worst son ever to exist' award his car _dig_-ed at him. Kurt's eyes shot down and read the low tank light warning that in twenty miles he would be out of gas. He felt Blaine's inquiring eyes on his face and without any prompt he answered, "We need to find a gas station soon."

Wes and David, with a little too much energy coursing through their system, sprang into action, faces pressed against the window like curious puppy dogs.

Kurt's icy exterior melted at the sight of the two boys noses smashed against the glass in the backseat. Before even a minute fully passed, the two were huffing on the window, drawing elaborate stick figures fighting apparently epic battles if their narration was anything to base it off of.

With the two occupied in the back, it was Blaine who first spotted the gas station on the right side of the road about quarter of a mile down the road. Wordlessly he pulled over and killed the engine at the nearest pump. Quickly the playful tone in the car descend into a more somber, tense atmosphere.

Even though they hadn't happened across any zombies since they had left McKinley didn't mean that there weren't still in Lima. Gas card readily in hand, David handed over his flamethrower and with a deep breath, Kurt steadied his nerves and slipped out of the car. The boys were close behind him, weapons up and ready. As the tank slowly filled with gas, they didn't say a word, let alone breathe.

The numbers spun as the gallons went up and the price went up. Seven gallons. Nine. Twelve. Fifteen.

Kurt began to smile. Any second now the thing will clock off and in a few quick few steps they would back on the road.

Except nothing ever goes the way they should in his life.

Really, Kurt's life doesn't equal all sunshines and rainbows and sales at Sac's.

The only good thing that had been going right was his relationship with Blaine and even when he thought about it they were still in the 'what the hell are we doing' stage of things, and since it only really started on this bizzarro apocalypse he wouldn't exactly call it the most stable of relationships right now. But that isn't the issue right now.

The problem was a team of three gnarly looking men quickly descending on them.

"They're not zombies right?" David asked, newly owned axe raised in preparation.

"No David," Kurt said, eyes bouncing from each man, "They aren't zombies but something tells me they are even more dangerous."

"But how-" Wes was cut off when the first man spoke.

"Alright listen up boys! You're gonna hand over this fine thing of a car to us peacefully and we won't be forced to shoot you dead."

The man was burly, the type of guy you stereotypically think of when you think mid-west country hick. The kind of man with ratty hair, a beard, weather worn skin and luckily enough for them, what appeared to be several teeth missing as he spoke. Just the sort of guy you want to meet in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with his two other beastly men against four relatively scrawny teenage boys.

Kurt just knew this was going to go soooo splendidly.

"What if we were to say no to your proposal?" Blaine asked, the grip on his new aluminum bat tightening.

Kurt's eyes opened, now was not the time for Blaine to play hero!

The man to the nearest left laughed heartily, big belly rumbling like a picturesque Santa Claus, you know, if he was covered in tats, unkempt and dirty. Yup, just like ol' Saint Nick himself.

Blaine looked ridicious, though Kurt would never tell him that, challenging three huge men. And Blaine was even smaller than him! Okay, maybe only like by an inch and he might be a little stockier but even still he looked like a kindergartner trying to take on a senior in college.

"This kid's funny!" Mr. Not-Claus said, "like that little bat would do anything, hell, if a little fairy like him could even swing it! More like he's a catcher." He nudged the other man who had yet to speak, as if he were oh so clever.

All fours bristled at the comments and Kurt had to will his trigger finger not to press down and flambé the guys in front of him.

David went to speak, mouth open and all but the middle man, head-boss man, raised his double barrel shot gun and took aim at the boy. "Okay, now, I don't want to have to fire, but I don't want to ask twice. Hand over the keys." The other two men raised their equally badass weaponry and Kurt new it was futile to fight.

"Fine," Kurt spoke, taking a step forward and lowering his flamethrower. "But we want our stuff out of the back of the car."

"Look at that flamer with that flamethrower. That's, what the word for it? Iconic? Tonic? Gesh, I don't know, but it's damn funny!" Mr. Not-Claus spoke again and Kurt gritted his teeth, fighting the stream of hateful comments that were on the tip of his cutting tongue.

Once again ignoring his companion's comment, bossman nodded, "Fine, keys first," Kurt clicked open the back trunk and then tossed the keys. Waving the boys over, the four scrambled and lugged out their bags, each with one on their shoulders and one in hand. Silent-one and Mr. Neatherclaus watched wearily as the headboss slide into the driver's seat.

Wes reached up and slammed the door shut as the four of them stumbled back from the car. Mr. Neatherclaus saluted them with his shot gun and jumped into the back and the other into passenger seat. Peeling out of the gas station, the gas hose was ripped out of the pump and flapped behind them as they raced down the highway.

"Well this fucking sucks." Wes said eloquently.

Blaine shrugged off the bags and collapsed down on the one filled with clothing, "Yup."

David and Wes joined suit, uselessly sitting and starring off after the slowly growing smaller black dot that was their only transportation.

"What in the world are we going to do now?"

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this next installment!


	6. Step 6: I'm too tired to even

Hello my readers (are there left? Please give a shout out, cuz I feel like no one is reading this anymore)! Thanks to all those (the two) who reviewed last chapter and those who favorited and alerted, it is like chocolate crack and you feed my addiction – like watching the Kliss over and over on repeat, don't act like you didn't/don't!

Anyways, here is the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it! PS: My amazing and lovely beta can no longer be my amazing and lovely beta for life has taken over her well, life, anyways, so all mistakes are mine and I apologize in advance.

* * *

Chapter 6: I'm So Depressed I Can't Even Come Up With a Plan E!

* * *

"What in the world are we going to do now?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at David's dramatic wail. Dropping his bags softly he began walking back the way they had come from. He got about fifty feet before he heard Blaine calling after him.

Blaine got to his feet, heart pounding in his chest as she watched Kurt walk away, walking away from them, from him.

Why?

No.

Taking off after the teen, Blaine ran, feet against the pavement, and in the moments it took to catch up to Kurt were the longest in his life. "Kurt," he huffed, "Whe-where are you going?" He breathed, voice cracking on the first word.

Kurt pushed his bangs out of his face and said with his typical biting tone, "Please Blaine, give me more credit than that. I'm not going to run off after being car jacked by some red neck, sister-sexing idiot who looks as if he found his outfit in the Walmart reject section and to let his pigs nest in and then wore. I've death with worse than those gun toting, over compensating, teeth missing knuckle dragging cave men."

Blaine blinked, scarily reminded of that cheerleading coach when she went on tangents as she insulted people around her, aka, when she blasted him about his curls and inability to be vertically efficient. He didn't want to think what that meant about Kurt, just that maybe there was an alternative reason as to why Kurt had joined the team and maybe being flexible and winning Nationals wasn't the only thing he learned as a Cheerio.

It was a scary thought.

And Blaine just hoped that he would never incur the wrath of one Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.

"Oh, okay, good! Not, not that I assumed that you were running off… but you did kind of leave pretty fast. What are you do-thinking?" Blaine asked, biting the inside of his lip in nerves.

Kurt shot him a small smile, "I'm thinking that a little less than half a mile back I saw a deserted old truck that I'm certain I can hot wire. And therefore serve the little speed bump in our quest."

"How do you do it?" The words were out of his mouth before he could fully acknowledge that he spoke.

Kurt looked at him, eyes squinting in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Cornered, Blaine decided honesty was the only direction that he felt he could go, "How are you so perfect?"

Kurt leaned his head back, the white column of his neck exposed (and looking amazing so all he wanted was to run his lips along it), and laughed deeply, "I honestly don't know what you are talking about. You're in shock from what just happened, I am no where near perfect."

Blaine only ruely shook his head, disagreeing. Kurt was perfect. His bitchiness, his love of the spot light, diva, loud and crazy moments included, he was pure perfection.

And Blaine wanted nothing more than to be with him.

(forever.)

They continued walking in silence and Blaine let his hand brush against Kurt's. After two brush encounters, Kurt sighed in false annoyance and then grabbed Blaine's hand in his. It was amazingly soft. Now he was getting distracted by Kurt's amazingly soft skin. Damn him.

By the end of this (waves imaginable hands) he was going to have a hand fetish. And what spectacular hands they were, long, elegant fingers, strong palms, did he mention soft? Yup, now he was obsessing and now Kurt was breaking into a car?

Kurt cursed, wishing for a skive to slide between the window pane and the door. Smirking, he found a superior alternative then smashing in the window. Jumping into the bed of the 1985 Chevy truck, he smiled when the back window slide open. Judging the width, Kurt slipped through the small opening, thanking his mother for his slight frame.

Blaine watched all of this with wide eyes. Within less than a minute was settled into the car and ducking under the wheel. Blaine heard another curse echo in the cap of the car. A pregnant pause later, the car roared to life. Kurt's head popped back up, hair sticking up in a cute disarray. Adorable.

Rolling down the window manually, Kurt shouted, "Hop in!" Blaine grinned, teeth exposed and jumped into the passenger seat.

Rattling along the highway, Kurt pulled over to Wes and David who still sat idly by, dejected, on the side of the road, a mess of bags around them.

"To quote one of the greatest movies to ever hit the screens, 'get in losers, we're going shopping!'"

* * *

"Sixty-five bottles of butterbeer on the wall, sixty-five bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around, sixty-five bottles of butterbeer on the wall! Sixty-four –"

"Wes! If you do not shut up right now, I will kick you out and leave you to that crowd of zombies we just passed!"

"But Kurt!"

"No! Do not tempt me!"

"Damn," he pouted.

The back window slide close with a harsh flick of Kurt's wrist.

"I can't believe we got conned into the back."

"I can't believe we're letting David drive."

"My ass is numb."

"My ass went numb like half an hour ago."

"My legs are cramped. Why do we have so much crap?"

"I think I'm burning. Hand me that bag there, no, the other one, yeah, I know. But we have to prepare for anything. And we have to break into some office building, so I figured we needed all of Coach's spy gear."

"True enough. Hand me that bag, sweet, I'm so hungry! Ranch Doritos!"

"Hey! I want some Doritos." Grabby hands.

"Get your hands back in the cab David. People in the back get to eat. You two hand your turn."

"Awww!"

"Hey Blaine, do you prefer Leo or Johnny?"

"In all seriousness, I think I have to go with Tom Felton."

"Really?"

"Yup. Though I would say that if I was ever propositioned by Leo or Johny or both at-"

"Fine! Don't give into my puppy dog look you two. You are now officially being ignored."

Slam went the window.

* * *

"How did you end up in the front with me?"

"Because Blaine wants to take a quick nap in the back and Wes wants to eat his weight in chips right now."

"Disgusting."

"Wrong word little spy, delicious."

"You boys are absolutely revolting sometimes."

"You're a teenage male as well Kurtie. Speaking of, how are you and Blaine getting along."

"One, never call me Kurtie again if you value your skin not being extra crispy. Two, how was that a segue of questioning me about Blaine, and three, Blaine and I 'get along' just fine. I don't get what you are trying to imply there.

"You, him, a whole vat full of teenage hormones…"

"…"

"Have you made like bunnies yet!"

"What? No! No. Just, no. I'm not discussing this with you!"

"Awww, come onnn! Real life porn is so much better than just watching it."

"I… I can't even comment on that."

"Why are you pulling over? We're just getting to the juicy details!"

"Wes? Yeah, your turn to drive."

"Sweet!"

"No! Kurt, don't leave me, Kurtttt!"

"Shut up David, before you wake Blaine."

"Yeah, yeah, don't want to wake lover boy, wouldn't want to spoil your 'morning surprise.'"

"I really can't even… Wes do your best to shut up David will you? And if you have to break out your gravel, please, be my guest."

"Be safe! Do you have condoms? Should we raid the next Quicky Mart so you guys can have a fun, safe lil quickie in the back?"

SLAM! The window officially ended one of the worst conversations Kurt had ever had to deal with.

* * *

"Are you seriously telling me that when we get rich enough from this mission that you won't buy an island?"

"No, I'm seriously not."

"Why the hell not!"

"Because I burn really easily. This skin is not made for the sunshine, especially not the sun so close to the equator. And I like the cold. Winter. Scarves. No heat. No sweat. Perspiration is not attractive."

"Blaine. In a swim suit. Just let your mind ponder on that for awhile."

"Again, shut up David. I swear you're the one in love with Blaine and not me with how much you want to hear about us. Do you want to live vicariously through me?"

"What? No. No! Don't quirk your elegant eye brow at me like that. I don't. Seriously, really, I don't like Blaine like that."

"'The lady doth protest too much.'"

"Shut up Wes, you are not involved in this!"

"Hey guys! Ready to get back on the road?"

"Yup Blaine, though I'd like to say that we're all ready to hit the road after your fourth bathroom break but you and your tiny ass bladder apparently had other ideas, prego."

"Wes, shut up." To Kurt, "So what were you guys talking about?"

A pause.

"What you'd boy once we become famous from this cure. David and Wes want to join forces and buy an island in the Caribbean."

"I take it from your distasteful tone that you don't agree."

"Yeah, no."

"Wes, stop singing Love Shack under your breath!"

"Get in the back, I'm driving and I chose Kurt as my passenger."

"Big surprise!"

"Fine, I know when we're not wanted. Let's go Wesley, we'll party it up in the back."

Door, slam.

* * *

"Hey Kurt?"

Kurt turned his head which was currently rested on a small bundle of towels, a makeshift pillow of sorts. He remembered his best movable clothes, best of his facial items, emergency hairspray, extra gas for his flamethrower and extra jewels in case the bedazzled flamethrower lost a few jewels in the heat of the battle, a fluffy blanket and sleeping bag, but not a pillow.

"Yeah Blaine?" he whispered back.

Blaine rolled over to face him and Kurt found himself almost nose to nose with the boy. Fitting four boys in the back of an ancient truck that shuddered when it approached eighty miles an hour meant that their was automatic cuddling. You wouldn't find Kurt complaining. Well as long as David kept his abnormally long legs away from his niche.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to star gaze but I find the sight of your eyes much more pleasurable than the simple view of the heavens."

Kurt felt the tells of himself blushing pink and was thankful for the near pitch-black darkness of the night. At his feet David and Wes groaned loudly.

Blaine, still starring at Kurt, snapped at them, questioning what they were on about.

"Cheesy dude."

"Yeah, and overused. Two out of ten. Points only for the complete sincerity that you said it."

"Again, what?"

"Oh Kurt, do you have a map, because I seem to have hopelessly gotten lost in your beautiful and wonderful and amazing eyes!" David swooned.

Blaine felt the back of his neck heat up in embarrassment, "I-I didn't mean-"

Wes laughed, "Oh we know Blainey-boy, you can't help being a sappy, cheesy, romantic. It's like one of your default settings."

"Alright, I think it's time for the children to go to bed." Kurt snipped, all the while taking Blaine's hand and bringing it to his lips, giving tiny kisses to each knuckle.

"Awwwww!" The two boys whined.

Blaine shifted closer, shuddering at the sensation, he kissed Kurt on the cheek, lacking the courage to do more.

"Oh god, now they're making out. Come on David, we might as well fall asleep before we have to hear them get to bumping and grinding."

Ignoring the indigent comments from his friends, Blaine breathed out, "Goodnight Kurt."

Kurt kissed Blaine, a firm but slightly softer kiss on his , "Goodnight Blaine."

Snuggling closer, they feel asleep wrapped in each others arms.

* * *

"We need more food."

Blaine announced the next morning.

A glorious morning it had been too. Butterfly kisses, the sun peaking at them as they warmly said their good mornings, bleary eyed, no clear knowledge as to where Kurt began and Blaine ended.

Kurt, an hour later from said morning, patted his face dry in the dodgy abandoned diner they had come across a mile down the road they had parked for the night. "What? Already? It's been only two days."

Blaine grinned at him in the reflection of the mirror, "And we're teenage boys. We need food. We'll have to raid the nearest store we pass."

"Okay, give me ten more minutes," Kurt said, smearing one of his creams on his face.

Back in the car, Blaine drove and all four pairs of eyes scanned the horizon of green fields and cows for some kind of acknowledgment of the human world, that diner had been a small blessing the night before.

Ten minutes of starring at nothing, Blaine pulled off the highway on the nearest surface street and decided looking in town would their best bet. Not that Blaine was a betting man. It was undapperly to get caught up in money and greed. Though dapperly betting can be done correctly if you are wearing a delicious cut suit, doing it in black and white and have a small glass or bourbon or a martin held just so. Then you could be a sexy gentleman and still gamble. But Blaine was unwashed, hair ungelled, not in a smooth suit, nor did he have any money to bet or martin to sip at. He did have, however, a beautiful goodluck charm on his arm (not literally on his arm but close, brushing his arm) and that was more than enough.

When David and Wes started bouncing in the back, screaming they found it, they found it, pointing, hell throwing themselves in the direction of what they had found, Blaine thought that maybe he should look into becoming an occasional betting man, invest in a couple of good suits and learn how to control his liquor as they had come to the mother of all stores.

Walmart.

Talk shit all you want on Walmart, hell, Blaine knew that in a few seconds Kurt will be giving him a mountain long list of things he hates about Walmart, but when your in a bit of pinch, ie read in the middle of a rain of fleshing snacking undead, Walmart (more so Costco because it has a greater stock of things, but since they are currently in Oklahoma and the nearest Costco is in the middle of Texas, Walmart will just have to do) looks like a godsend. Or like winning a pair of orchestra seats of Wicked. Maybe not Wicked, maybe more like Hair.

But that's completely besides the point. The point was that they had found a store to stock up on food, and not just candy, gum, and chips but actual, legit food that sustain a human body. Except as Blaine pulled the car into the lot, they found a little problem.

The parking lot was full to the brim of cars, it appears as if every citizen in the county of wherever-they-were-villes had piled into Walmart to wait out this "little problem" that was being "handled" by the government.

"Oh." Kurt said. And Blaine was surprised that's all he said.

Muffled curse words came from the back and what sounded like a wail of "BUT I'M SO HUNGRYYY!" from Wes.

Blaine peered at the stacks of cars, there really was no room. Cars parked hazardly, cashed against each other, parked in the street with no space between, just a sea of metal with no sign of pavement anywhere.

"It's worse than a sale at Macy's."

* * *

AN: (More like "It's worse than a mother fucking Macy's sale." Insert gif of Blaine and Kurt dancing at Macy's, tumblr pep, you know what I mean:)

Thanks so much for reading and please review, just so I know that people are still reading and enjoying this story. More to come in about a week (sorry, I'll be on vacation!)


	7. Step 1: Redo: Blow off Steam

AN: Wow, thanks everyone! Seriously, after traveling via airplane for almost 12 hours I was too happy to get each and everyone of your reviews! And I have to add that I wrote this chapter long before the Kliss but now you all have some lovely real images to imagine this scene with J

All I have to say is that I need some fluff before we get to the big dramatic chapter with zombies galore and wanabee spies. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 7: Step 4: Redo: Blow off Steam Before Committing a Felony

* * *

They found food in the next town's convenient store.

Which was pretty damn lucky because 1) they had to fight about eight zombies in the parking lot and 2) the entire drive Kurt had his hand on his flamethrower trigger, ready to fry David as he whined insistently about how his stomach was eating itself and as Wes lamented that he was going to die of starvation.

Seriously, if there was one thing that would go down in the history books about one Mr. Kurt Hummel was that he had the patience of a saint. Oh and that he was always dressed to the nines and tens and elevens, and the fiercest bitch alive behind Lady Gaga and Patti Lupone of course.

So equipped with food and the likes they were off once more, traveling through the top of Texas, into New Mexico, entered Arizona just before nightfall. The desert chills at night were made bearable by the warm body heat of sharing the back of the truck with three other boys. Which also consisted of constant jokes supplied from Wes and David that fully broached on Kurt's beauty sleep.

Really, patience of a saint this boy here.

The next day, with a bathroom break almost every hour ("Blaine, really, are you pregnant, because we'll help you get through this." "Yeah and maybe Kurt will let us call that hot cheerleader because even after having a baby last year, her body is rocking! So we'll get you back into pre-baby weight." "And I'm sure Kurt will still love you even if you are pregnant with another man's baby." "Unless you've been holding out on us and it is Kurt's baby.") they did finally arrive in California.

"Hey, hey, Wes, pull over."

"Why David, you should have gone to the bathroom twenty miles ago when Blaine had to go."

Blaine poked his head through the window, "Hey! Riding in the back is bumpy, it makes me pee more often! I can't help it."

"Seriously Blaine," Kurt said without looking up from flipping through an old copy of US magazine he had plucked off the shelf at the last gas station shop they had stopped at. "You really don't have to explain to us about your bodily functions. I like you, but not enough to hear about your peeing habits. It's kinda not attractive in the least."

Blaine flushed and ducked back out of the window.

"No, but really, Wes, turn around and pull over! We missed the sign!" David exclaimed, bouncing slightly in his seat.

"What sign?"

"The 'Welcome to California' sign with the little poppy flowers and rolling hills!" He duhhed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. To him, it apparently was.

Wes gave in and soon they were parked off the side of the road in front of the sign. All boys jumped out, taking every opportunity to stretch their legs (because sitting on you ass for hours on end can be very exhausting, didn't you know) even if they were all confused as to why they were stopped (well except for David).

"Does anyone have a camera on them?" David asked, looking to each of the boys.

Kurt shook his head, Wes said he left his phone in the cup holder of the Navigator but Blaine announced that he did.

"What, you brought your camera on this trip?" Kurt asked incredulously.

Blaine shrugged, "I figured, if we make it out alive, that this would be something I want documented, something I can physically look back on and see that this wasn't just a nightmare."

"So you're gonna make a photo album of our trip through zombie invested lands, us being badass spies – well maybe not Kurt but David and I will make up for him – and stealing the cure and then going home fame and glory?" Wes asked, a wide smile on his face.

Blaine shrugged, "More or less, yeah."

"Sweet dude, make me one too! I want copies of those pics up on my wall and available in my pocket to bring out when anyone puts any doubts on my amazingness!"

"Have you been sneaking pics of us this whole time?" David asked with a bemused smile.

Blaine shuffled his feet, "Just a few here and there."

"As long as my hair isn't ruffled and is perfectly styled in every one of those pictures than I'm fine with it." Kurt said, making a grasp for Blaine's camera held in his hands.

But the boy pulled back, "Don't worry, you look perfect."

"So picture of all of us in front of the sign now?" David asked, bouncing on the tip of his toes in excitement.

Kurt shot him a confused look, "What is up with you and this sign?"

David sighed and looked dreamily off into the distance, "I've always wanted to go to California, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty."

"That's a Guns and Roses quote." Blaine pointed out.

David waved him away, "Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted," he shot Blaine a nasty look, "I really love the golden state and this is my first time going here and I want this documented!"

"And bang goes the gavel," Kurt muttered under his breath.

Blaine snorted quiet undapperly into his hand. Wes and David dutifully ignored them.

Fixing the camera on top of the truck, they set the ten second mark, ran frantically to get in position, jostling each other and before they knew it the flash went off. Later on, Blaine would always laugh at the picture of the four of them, Kurt glaring at David for stepping on his shoe, Blaine's head under Wes' arm in mock headlock, and the only one smiling broadly at the camera was David.

It was nightfall by the time they reach their destination. Three days of driving and they were finally in Santa Monica. The closer they got to the beach, the more deserted they found it. Following the map, after getting lost on the surfaces streets leading up to the beach, they finally parked in one of the designated park spots. Wes turned off the engine and all four jumped out of the car.

Even if they were in the middle of a world wide disaster, even if the world was falling down around them, even if things will never truly be the same, you have to enjoy the little things, if not, you can really get lost in the endless death, in the wastelands and lose your mind.

So when Wes and David kicked off their shoes and ran for the water Kurt just chuckled and smiled at Blaine when he took his hand and followed the boys at a slower but no less excited pace.

Blaine turned to him, swinging their hands childishly, "Have you ever been to the beach before?"

Kurt nodded and settled his gaze at the now visible crashing waves, "Yeah, when I was little. My mom use to have family out here. Haven't been back here since she died."

Blaine let them fall into silence for a minute than admitted himself, "I've never been to the beach before this."

"Really!" Kurt laughingly asked, "For some reason I can't believe that. Too bad we're coming at a time where you can't enjoy the full joys of the beach."

Pulling his amazed gaze from the beach – loving the sight of the moon glistening off the water and the waves crashing sound- Blaine gazed into Kurt's eyes, illuminated beautifully by the moonlight and spoke, "I don't know, this right here is pretty perfect."

Kurt's answering smile was a full on beam and he squeezed their hands before bumping his shoulder, "Total cheese ball."

"Only for you!" Blaine laughed and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

The air shifted and Kurt stepped in closer, the distance between their bodies almost non-existent. Kurt raised his free hand and grazed Blaine's forehead, down the side of his check and across his strong jaw, day old stubble rough against his soft hands. He cupped his jaw and dragged his thumb slowly over Blaine's bottom lip, his eyes never leaving Blaine's. Blaine let out a shuddering breath but didn't move, letting Kurt control the situation.

Kurt's eyes bounced back and forth between his, he tilted his head down and moved in closer, eyes dropping to his lips. Blaine sucked in a breath, tilting his head up slighting in response. His hazel eyes left Kurt's and focused on his pink mouth. Kurt closed the last inches between them and their lips touched, gingerly but still firm. It was quick, warm and sent the bats in his stomach all a flutter, but over too fast. So when Kurt pulled back, and their eyes fluttered open, Blaine took one (gorgeous) look at his flushed face, red lips parted lighted and blue eyes glazed and fluttering and surged forward to reclaim Kurt's lips.

This kiss wasn't tentative, this hard, teeth clashing, was everything that had been building between since that first song in the senior commons.

All in all, if Blaine could just kiss Kurt for the rest of this life, he would be a very happy camper, as in this life would be perfect and nothing hurts.

Of course Blaine has terrible luck. Right when things were getting to the whole, legs turning to jelly, uncomfortable pants situation, moaning wantonly into Kurt's mouth because where the hell did Kurt learn how to use his tongue like that and oh my god Blaine was in heaven, dumb and dumber decided that now would be a wonderful time to kick the waves as they crashed on the beach, splashing them in the process and wetting their hot snogging fest.

Where were those zombies when you needed them to eat your best friends as revenge?

Kurt squeaked and jumped away from the waves, glaring at the two boys who laughed loudly at the couple. Blaine, shooting his own death stare (though not patented like Kurt's) and followed after the boy. He took Kurt's hand and tugged him to get him to follow and not jump-attack the boys, "Come on Kurt, let's walk along the beach."

The other responded with a huff but squeezed Blaine's hand tight, "Okay, fine. I might kill David and Wes if we don't."

After Kurt's prompting, they kicked off their shoes and walked along the wet sand, dancing away from the cold water washing up to their ankles. The night held a bit of chill to it, but with Kurt at his side and the tingling of their last kiss still on his lips, nothing could really phase him. The moonlight spilling onto the water, glistening like crystals of the purest glass, Kurt's eyes sparkling and a smile tugging at his lips as he spoke about long, half forgotten memories, Blaine just had to stop them every couple feet to him into sweet kisses (which Kurt responded to enthusiastically so Blaine assumed that he didn't mind too much).

Really, this night was defiantly one to write about in his memoir Blaine decided, a whole chapter could be dedicated to all the things he loved about one Kurt Hummel.

Like his skills of observation, for example, because without them he would be dead. But it was Kurt's fault because his damn eyes were just so distracting and his lips were demanding they be kissed so it wasn't his fault per say that he missed the fact that some zombies had decided that the lovely couple were going to be their midnight snack.

As the two turned tail and run, without weapons on their person, Kurt cursed, "God dammit! Can't I get a freakin' break here!"

Clutching Kurt's hand harder, he tried to keep up with the athletic boy, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the world has to spiral into a zombie freaking apocalypse in order to get the guy I've fallen for to kiss me. And on the most romantic night of my life and fulfilling my dream of walking on the beach at night with my boyfriend, it gets interrupted by those stupid dead people! Ugh! I'd rather have homophobics throwing greasy fries at me! And the grease would totally ruin my clothes. Why can't I ever get a perfect night?"

Blaine panted, running on the sand was a draining thing, as he kept pace with Kurt, "Boyfriend?" he gasped out.

Kurt shot him a confused glare, "Unbelievable, out of all of that, you got boyfriend? Of course you're my boyfriend, unless, I mean, you don't…"

"No! No, I mean, no I want to be your boyfriend. I want you to be my boyfriend too!" Blaine grinned at him, unknowingly having stopped running.

Kurt ceased his race as well and smiled at him back, "Really?"

"Yeah really, of course." Blaine grinned, resembling a happy puppy finally getting to run off the leash.

"Then, to be my boyfriend, you should really start running again! Come on Blaine!" Kurt yanked on Blaine's hand to get him to move again as the zombies barreled down on them.

"Oh shit,"

About one hundred yards down, Wes and David, thoroughly soaked with cold salt water, emerged from the waves and gazed wonderingly at the two boys.

"What in the world has them in a rush?" David asked.

Wes laughed and said flippantly, "They probably want to get their sex on but Kurt's too prim to have sex on the 'dirty beach' where the sand can get 'anywhere' and so, wasting no time, Blaine grabs his hand similar to the first time they met and urges Kurt to run back to car so they can get their sexy times on."

David turned to him, eyes squinting, "Have you started writing again?"

The other boy shrugged in response, "Just little stories now and than, why?"

"Cuz that sounded like the beginning of the climax to one of your stories. Very poetic. I give you props."

Wes grinned, "Thanks buddy!"

David turned back to the boys in question, "Of course, it could be because a mass of zombies are snapping at their heels like over sized, flesh hungering, pomeranians."

Wes squinted and than saw the mass of zombies following after Kurt and Blaine and tilted his head in thought, "Oh yeah, it could be that too, but that's not as fun."

"Why? At least this time we get to participate in what they're doing." David countered, walking calmly towards the abandoned weapons littering the sand higher up on the beach.

"Right! Too true! Sweet, hand me my gun, my kind sir, and let's go save those star crossed lovers!"

"So they can finally get their lovin' on and save us from drowning in their sexual frustration!"

With those spoken words, Wes let a cartridge of bullets rain on the zombies following Blaine and Kurt. The two then dove to the sand, scared for their lives, more so of Wes and his gun than of the zombies napping at their backs.

"What the hell Wes! Wes knock it off, Wesley!" Kurt screamed, but with the constant retort of the gun, it was useless.

Wes ceased fire and asked for Kurt to repeat himself, which the boy did, while standing and brushing the sand off his clothes. "I mean, you weren't even aiming! You could have killed Blaine and me! What the hell Wesley!"

"Dude, really, I got this!" Here he shot off another three bullets. Kurt screeched and dove to the sand once more, hands covering his head.

"Sorry! I thought I had gotten them all, sneaky little bastard wouldn't die." Wes grumbled, approaching the mass of dead zombies and nudged the nearest with his toe. "Dead now."

"That's great, Wes, just great!" Kurt stood once more, again, brushing off the sand and trying to salvage his clothes. Ugh sand. It gets everywhere! And it really wasn't good for his skin, watch now he's going to have to put on two layers of moisturizer on because of the irritation. "You couldn't just wait for Blaine and me to be out of the way, you just had to fire off willy nilly and just hope that you didn't hit us! You just had to play hero and risk our lives. You almost hit me Wesley! I felt a bullet whiz by. My. Face! My face dammit! You could have killed me! And great teapot in the sky! Here's a bullet graze. You have now effectively ruined this shirt. And you were a millimeter away from SHOOTING ME!" Kurt's voice had grown shriller with each sentence until Blaine was damn sure that the boy was at the end of his range with the last two words screeched so high, glass could explode.

Kurt stormed off, sweeping up his flamethrower and shoes as he marched off to the car. Blaine rubbed the back of neck, hesitating about following after _that_. Maybe it would be best to let Kurt fum on his own for a little bit. His ears might appreciate it.

"Man, what the hell is up with your boyfriend? A little thanks for saving his ungrateful ass woulda been nice!" Wes threw up his hands, "I can never win!"

David scoffed, "Man, you're just lucky that Kurt didn't flambe your ass right now." He patted Wesley shoulder in a total bro like way and walked after Kurt, ready for bed time.

Blaine offered Wes a smile, "If it's any consolation, I appreciated it Wes."

"See, I knew there was a reason why I liked you better than your psycho boyfriend. Though now I can see what he'll be like between the sheets. Have fun with that wild cat Anderson!" Wes chuckled loudly and chased after David, avoiding the smack Blaine had aim at him.

"Shut up Wes! I worry about you, you spend more time thinking about Kurt sexually than I do!" Blaine shouted after him, shaking his head, "Stay away from my boyfriend! You have David all for yourself, isn't that enough?"

Bouts of laughter just followed.

* * *

AN: Thanks so much for reading! The ending is in sight, *checks outline* yup, two more chapters plus a bonus chapter that didn't really fit anywhere. So thanks for reading and please drop a line about what you think. More zombie killing? More Klaine? More Wavid undertones (though I don't know if I can make the gay subtext anymore obvious, it's like Merlin here people)?


	8. Step 8: The Felony

AN: My only excuse is that being gone for two weeks in your senior year is a little difficult and I had to forgo writing (cries) in order to make up my work and catch up. Can't fail now that I've gotten into one of my dream schools (or at least that's what I keep trying to say to counteract the major major major senioritis I am suffering from). (And this lateness might also be due to the new story I'm starting, maybe, sorry!) And the fact that I have three weeks to do 6 more art pieces done for AP Art (cries some more). So sorry for such a late chapter! But it's finally here. That's something right? Right?

Written primarily listening to my handy dandy (notebook!) Klaine and the Warblers playlist the best thing internet that doesn't need to dial up. Long chapter is long! Yayaya!

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Felony**

* * *

"So what's the first step on the break in plan?" Kurt asked to David, the four of them perched n the back of the truck, freshly dressed and stomachs full from a makeshift breakfast after a night of camping on the beach (and secret kisses, sneaked cuddles, and general 'goey-eye-ness' according to David and Wes).

David cleared his throat, "Step one to Breaking into the Rented Building of One Flint Jason and Stealing the Cure to Zombism,"

"Zombiolstics," Wes corrected.

David countered with, "Undeadic disease,"

Blaine cleared is throat loudly and eyed the pair of boys.

"Fine," David rolled his eyes, "Don't scrunch up those caterpillar eyebrows Blaine," Wes snickered and Kurt bit his lip, holding in his smile. "Anyways… Step one is simple. Drive by and asses the grounds of the building. After which, step two is to than break into City Hall and steal the blue prints of the building. From there we will map out the best entrances, exit strategies, and back ups and break in!" David finished with a 'ta da' type of face, voice and a little bit of jazz hands to top it off.

The three other boys frowned at him, "That, that um… that sounds very simple?" Kurt said, confused.

"I can't tell if that's too simple or too much." Blaine said, confusion too coloring his voice.

David scoffed, "No! It's perfect. I mean there's a bit of guess work that's gonna be involved and plus anything more complicated that that will only serve to confuse Wes!"

Wes simply leaned over and punched the boy, "Shut up David! At least I don't confuse salt with potassium on the periodic table!"

"That was only a couple of times! And that was as a freshman. Sorry not all of use read on the genius scale Wesley!" David shouted back, sitting nose to nose with Wes now.

"Well maybe if you studied a bit more instead of just copying off my homework all of the time because you spend all night playing-" It would never be said what Wes spent all night playing for at that moment Kurt tried to keep order.

"Boys, boys!" He shouted, but it was too late to keep the peace as Wes and David were wrestling while screeching like banshees what sounded like insults but Kurt couldn't be too sure. His Gaga blasted and now damaged eardrums unable to hear that high of a decibel reading.

Blaine snatched up the map and written steps and jumped out of the bed of the truck like the professional furniture climber he is. Kurt followed suit and ran to the driver's seat, beating out Blaine who even with the puppy dog pout couldn't keep him from the passanger's seat. Kurt glanced into the rear view mirror, angling it for a moment so he could see the two boys rolling around in the small space and asked, "How long do you suppose those two will be at it?"

Busy mapping out where they had to go, Blaine shrugged, "When they burn off their extra energy I can only assume."

"Like killing all those zombies last night wasn't enough?" Kurt snarked, and fixed the mirror on him, fixing his bangs with a practiced ease.

"There's a reason why both of them are in sports year round in addition to the Warblers and it isn't just for filling their girlfriendless time with."

Whatever Kurt was going to snidely remark would forever be unheard because at that moment a large 'thump kunk' sounded followed by two very loud voices whining, "OW!"

Kurt froze, "Did David and Wes just roll out of the back?"

"Yup," Blaine nodded with a sadistic smirk. Kurt grinned evilly back, "They're lucky we weren't moving, I wouldn't have gone back for their asses!" The two laughed evilly, (something like MAWAHAHAHAH) as David and Wes grumbled and scrambled back into the cab, bruised and reckless energy drained.

* * *

"And what do you take note of oh tadpole spy?" Wes asked to Kurt, poking his head through the small window as they drove down the street of the targeted building.

Kurt gritted his teeth and wrung his hands on the steering wheeling, imagining it was Wesley's neck under his palms. This was the fifth time he had been called tadpole, six times they have cracked jokes about his failed spying, and how he needed to learn from the 'masters' and three Jedi/Star Wars jokes.

"Use the force, sense if there are people lingering around this block," David pipped up, peeping over the top of the sides of truck, ducking low to keep out of sight, of who, Kurt didn't know since the roads were empty, and the city was a ghost town.

Make that four Jedi jokes.

"There is no one here David, the town is empty, there aren't even zombies!" Kurt growled.

"Shhh!" David hissed, "Don't say stuff like that! Every time someone says something like that, than the opposite will happen, so now a hoard of zombies will come out of nowhere and eat us!"

Kurt exaggeratedly rolled his head while Blaine bit his lip to quell his laughter, "We aren't going to be eaten by zombies,"

"Noooo!" David moaned, burying his face into his hands, shaking his head.

"And we are not in a B rated horror film!" Kurt finished, acting like David hadn't interrupted with his melodramatic superstitions.

"Young grasshopper wouldn't understand out ways. Listen closely grasshopper and one day you won't be caught within a second for spying." Wes spoke seriously, his voice pitched lower.

Kurt felt like bashing his head through the window. Or better yet, smashing in David's and Wes' heads. That would solve all his problems.

"Do not loss patience, grasshopper, you will leave the nest in all due time. Once we can be sure that you won't get us caught the moment we step through the back door of the warehouse where the cure for zombities resides," Wes advised in Kurt's ear.

"Zombiotics," David tried.

Kurt's nostrils flared and Blaine smiled, ready for the lashing the two boys would receive, "If you two imbeciles have managed to forget within the last four days, I have saved your two collective asses more times than I can count. If I wasn't killing zombies about to rip off your faces, to fixing the car, to finding a new car for us and hot wiring it, to feeding you two babies, you would be zombie snacky food long ago! Now I have had enough force jokes, enough of being called a green, bugged eyed annoying arachnid,"

"It's an insect," David whispered in fear but Kurt was already steamrolling.

"I am more than capable of handling this situation and I will be the last person to screw this up because I fully know that if I try to return to Ohio without that cure safe in my possession, a zombie apocalypse will be the very last of my worries, including my father who will likely kill me upon return! So I do not need any of these stupid 'helpful hints' nor do I want you to bring up the so called spy incident again! Do you understand?" Kurt screeched, eyes fixed on the two in the rear view mirror.

David and Wes, clearly frightened by the angry!Kurt nodded quickly and shut their gaping mouths with a snap. They retreated backwards, as far as they could in the cab of the truck and stayed there.

Kurt looked over at the smirking Blaine before snapping, "And you, what are you so smiley about?"

Blaine turned melted hazel eyes to Kurt, "I just love you so much."

Kurt inhaled sharply and his face colored, "Oh."

The other boy smiled and pried one of Kurt's white knuckled hands off the wheel and brought the soft hand up to his mouth and lightly kissed his knuckles. Kurt flushed even darker and for the rest of the drive, Blaine held Kurt's hand in his lap while dumb and dumber sat quietly in the back.

* * *

"Ow! Dammit David get off my toes!"

"Sorry, sorry! I can't see anything!"

"Well if we brought flashlights like I suggested than that wouldn't be a problem now would it?"

"Gesh, someone needs to get some, preferably you and Blaine cuz I am dying from second hand sexual frustration!"

"Shut up Wes or I just might mistake you for a zombie and flame your ass!"

"Like I said, get some Kurt, really,"

"Umm… guys?"

"WHAT!" Three voiced barked.

"I think I found the light switch,"

"No don't! The zombies will than be able to see!"

"No! People might catch us breaking in!"

"Yes, please Blaine turn it on. For me?"

Blaine flicked on the switch.

David and Wes hissed, the sudden influx of light burning their eyes, and also pissed that Blaine caved into Kurt's sickly sweet 'for me?' What a sap. He was suppose to be _their_ best friend. Bros before hoes man and all that jazz. Not that they believe that Kurt's a hoe, no, no, Kurt would _kill them_ for even thinking that.

Blinking Kurt turned to his boyfriend and offered him a large smile, "Thanks Blaine!"

Blaine returned the grin and stepped back to the group and took Kurt's free hand, "No problem, I too was tired of running into every random thing hidden in the dark. And how were we suppose to find the map without any source of light Wes? David?"

"Shut up Blaine, we do not appreciate your logic in this situation." David bit back, leading the group through County Hall Records in search of their prize, the layout to building BN 148.

Wes' fingers traveled over the cabinets lining the walls, skimming the headings. With a victorious "Aha!" it was evident that David had found the gold under the rainbow. There was mad scrambling as David and Wes drug through the layers of blueprints after blueprints, papers flying out in their haste. Kurt, bored, hopped up on the table and smiled at Blaine as seductively as he could, hoping it went better than his sexy baby penguin faces.

Apparently Blaine liked baby penguins because he flushed slightly and stepped closer. Kurt, feeling brave - and at this point, really, why the hell not, he's been a major badass this trip – reached out and tugged on Blaine's collar, bringing him closer. Blaine tilted his head up and moved to stand between Kurt's legs, his breathing picking up and heart racing. Kurt bit his lip for a moment then angled his head downwards and closed the last inches between them. Blaine quickly wrapped one arm low around Kurt's waist and one cupped at Kurt's jaw. Kurt in turn wrapped both hands in Blaine's ungelled curls. The kiss grew deeper and in a reflex move, Kurt wrapped his legs around Blaine as he groaned into his mouth. Blaine's hand traveled downward and teased at the skin above Kurt's jeans. Kurt tugged at Blaine's bottom lip and Blaine couldn't help the responding moan.

Wes and David stilled and ever so slowly their heads turned to look at each other, mouth's hanging open. Locking wide eyes, they silently argued on whether to break up the public indecency going on right behind them or let the two go at it. David, unable to have anything off in his plans jerked his head to signal to Wes to break them up. He responded by backing away and wiped his hands in a show that David was all on his own.

Rolling his eyes at his second in command's cowardliness (really, did the boy need another lecture from Blaine on Courage), David smoothed out his blazer (though not his school blazer, he knew that would give him away and bring shame to the house of Dalton if he were to ever be caught… he did miss the red pipping though) and gathered himself up to his full height before stepping up to the fornicating teens. He loudly cleared his throat, once, twice. "Umm… guys?"

Kurt moaned when Blaine did _something_ with his tongue and David tried once again, "Blaine? Kurt? Guys! Now's not really the time."

Blaine craned is neck to the side allowing Kurt to have better access as his fingers unbuttoned the other's shirt. Knowing he had but seconds to put a stop to this before he was forced to vacate the building as the two really got it on, David cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a forced, "HEY!"

Pulling his lips from Blaine's neck, Kurt slowly turned to glare at the rude boy, face not amused, "You rang?"

David resisted the urge to duck away, it wasn't fun being on the wrong side of Kurt's ice bitch stare, he felt cold already, "Guys? Can we focus a bit? Wes and David need you two to watch our backs while we search for the blueprints in case any zombies sneak attack us."

"I wasn't aware that zombies could be ninja zombies now and actually sneak around," Blaine chipped in thoughtfully.

"Just, keep your eyes out for zombies and off of each other? And by the way, nice hickey there Blaine." David smirked and went back to the filling cabinet, searching its contents.

Blaine's hand shot up to cover up his neck and Kurt let out a self-satisfied grin and hoped off the table. He went to stand in front of the slightly embarrassed boy and began to re-button his shirt, whispering, "He said to keep our eyes off of each other, but he said nothing about hands,"

His eyes lit up and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth, Blaine whispered back, close to Kurt's ear, "I like the way you think Mr. Hummel. Should I return the favor for this little _blemish_."

Kurt nibbled at Blaine's ear but challenging him, "If you think you're up to it?"

"I guess the only way to prove it to you would be through demonstration," Blaine grinned widely and kissed along Kurt's jaw and licked his way down the white column of Kurt' neck. He nibbled at the soft skin before dragging his tongue along the bites, cooling the marks. Blaine tugged at Kurt's shirt, gaining access to the sharp collarbone.

"Ugh, Blaine," Kurt gasped out. Blaine kissed along his collarbone before sucking but Kurt spoke again, "Blaine, hon, Blaine," Mistaking the tone, Blaine pushed Kurt backwards a few steps until the other's legs hit the table. But Kurt was having none of it as he lightly pushed away Blaine's head from his neck and whispered low, "Blaine, maybe David is completely paranoid. There may be a couple zombies right behind you."

"What do you mean right behind me?" Blaine hissed, his libido plummeting as fear overtook any undapper thoughts.

"Just, grab Wes' gun off the table behind me and get ready to fit. Okay?" Kurt whispered reassuringly and crept his hand behind his back to take his own flamethrower. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three!"

On three, Kurt brought up his flamethrower and Blaine whirled around, gun raised and ready to fire. He stepped to the side of Kurt and there was a tense pause between the groups as the zombies slowly comprehended that the two were living, breathing, humans ready to be eaten. As the four zombies surged forward, Blaine pressed down on the trigger but to his ever growing horror, nothing happened. Kurt released a stream of fire that quickly caught one of the zombies aflame.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Blaine cursed, looking down at the unfamiliar gun, trying to get it to work before teeth with flesh stuck between tore into him. He glanced up, to keep an eye on the zombies in case they rushed him as his equipment failed him.

In terror he saw a zombie, already on fire, running straight for Kurt. Without thinking, Blaine tackled the boy to the floor with an "Oof!"

Unaware of the chaos going on behind them, Wes and David shout in excitement, holding up a blueprint in the air, similar to the pose in The Lion King. Success.

Simultaneously, Kurt and Blaine scramble back up to their feet and maybe it was the impact to the floor, Blaine realized that the safety was still on. Pulling back the hammer he ignored Kurt's mumbled, "Idiot!" And he quickly released a full clip into the zombie's flaming brain, while Kurt set aflame another zombie. With fast hands, Blaine released and reloaded another clip and empty the bullets into the last two zombies, blood flying everywhere as their heads just about imploded. Double success.

"Goddammit Blaine!" Wes' voice shouted as Kurt swiped at his face in disgust and Blaine dropped the gun onto the table, stepping over a zombie's prone body.

"What? I just did my job and helped kill the zombies! What could I have possibly have done now to deserve such a response?" Blaine snapped, he too brushing away brain matter from his face, than flicking his hand, trying to get it all off from his skin. Gross, gross, ew!

"There's blood all over the map now! And I can't even see parts of the building, the blood bleeding some of the writing!" David shouted, catching on to what Wes was so upset about.

Kurt's lips pursed in repulsion and announced, "Who cares, we got the map, it will be just have to do. Now I am going to go find a bathroom and scrub my face and skin before I puke and my pores clog."

He stalked off and Blaine, not ready for or particularly wanting a lecture from his two friends, hurried after his boyfriend. Caught up he asked lowly, "While in the bathroom can we get back to what we were going before cock-blocking zombies showed up and ruined our fun?"

Kurt turned to Blaine and beamed, "Of course," but he frowned before adding, "But I really do have to wash off this blood, the smell of it is making my stomach roll. And you better wash up too because I absolutely refuse to make out with you while you are covered in some dead person's blood. Maybe I'll take care of it for you," Kurt finished with a sly wink.

Blaine grinned, teeth exposed all the way to his wisdom teeth and all but skips along side Kurt to the backroom.

* * *

"Flashlights?"

"Check."

"Lock picks?"

"Right here."

"Cutting laser?"

"Where in the hell-"

"Got it,"

"Gloves?"

"Yeah Michael Jackson, right here,"

"Goggles?"

"For what I don't know, but yeah,"

"Hairspray? Why is-"

"Don't question it. And check,"

"Alright, I think that's it." Blaine checked off the last item on the horrendously long list that Kurt, David and Wes put together. It was like each was trying to out do each other by coming up with the most ridiculous item. And how they all fit the gear in the slim fitting black vests was beyond Blaine (damn did Kurt look good in that vest, just saying, Blaine with special boyfriend privileges could fully check out the boy unabashed).

The four boys in fitted black clothing – bought at the huge abandoned Macy's Kurt had sniffed out – stood in front of their intended entrance, finally ready. Four days had brought them here. Two thousand, three hundred miles, countless stories, random questions, tmi, jokes, food out of cans and boxes, showers at rest stops and public bathrooms, the four were here. Finally.

"Sure you're up for this Kurt? We understand if you feel like backing out now. Being a spy is hard." Wes quipped in the still air.

Kurt scowled but didn't dignify it with a response. Unable to help himself David added, "Okay spy kid, Juni Cortez, try to keep up with the grown ups okay?"

Again, Kurt ignored the jab but irritatedly waved his hand at David, "Will you just get it on with! So we can get this cure and I can finally kill you, since this is a four person team and for some reason you're the only one here who can pick a lock."

David jerkily nodded and pulled out his kit, kneeling by the steal door, "And why is that, by the way?" Kurt asked. David shrugged, "I don't know, you should know by now I have weird skills. I think it's because I went through this cat burglar phase when I was like ten where I practiced jumping off roofs and climbing things and somehow I learned how to pick locks."

Kurt eyed the boy and just rolled his eyes. Really he shouldn't be surprised anymore about the things that came out of any of the boys' mouths. Blaine shifted from foot to foot, nervous as he awaited David abracadabra-ing the door open. Wes hummed nervously under his breath, secretly fearful to what awaited them. Who knew? Maybe the guy had a mass of zombie slaves to attack at his command!

But when David whispered and quick, "Yes!" and the door swung open, the warehouse seemed, normal. The four cautiously entered and closed the door softly behind them. Here goes nothing. With silent footsteps they walked through the first hallways and into the second. Everything was silent and it seemed they managed to time it just right when Flint Jason wasn't there. Perfect. After the second sterile looking hallway it led to a rather large area with another door on the far left hand side of the building. Home free! The cure had to be behind those doors. From the bloodied building designs, there was a recorded change in structure last spring for a subzero freezer. So really, the cure had to be in that freezer and in just a couple yards, they would be racing out of there and back to Ohio.

Except nothing could really be that easy.

It was finally Blaine, Blaine Anderson who saves the day (did he mention finally? Because it seemed like it was either Kurt or Wes or David being all badass and saving people) by yelling, "Freeze!"

All three froze on command, their trust in Blaine evident. "I hear a high buzzing sound, it sounds like a high C," he offers offhandedly. He turns to turn and asks for his hair spray. Kurt pouts but grudgingly turns it over, even if Blaine had to literally rip it from his death grip on the bottle. Blaine flipped the bottle upside down and held down the knob for a few pauses. In a blink, red laser beams were made visible to their eyes. Wes pales and takes a step back, one of the lasers inches from his face. David gaps and audibly gulps in fright, nothing on their specs even hinted at this! Blaine bit his lip, worried, what were they going to do now?

Meanwhile, Kurt tilted his head and traced the empty spaces between the lasers. Nodding to himself Kurt unclasped his vest (though not before slipping a few small things into his jean pockets) and let it fall to the floor. He placed his hands on hips and gave a few twists, then he stenched downwards, palms on the floor and walked outwards than snapped back up. Kurt gave a few high kicks and bent his arms behind his head a couple times; all the while his eyes traced the lasers, calculating.

Blaine glanced over at Kurt, confused over his stoic thinking face but before he could question his boyfriend, Kurt was flipping over the first three lasers. David and Wes whelped in shock and Blaine demanded, "What in the world are you doing Kurt?"

Kurt shot him a smirk over his shoulder and bent backwards, hands over head, "Just watch,"

And watch he did. He watched in utter amazement as Kurt slipped, ducked, flipped, cartwheeled over the red beams easily, his movements fluid like water and showing off how utterly _flexible_ the boy was. Kurt was almost at the other side before he let out a small gasp, his foot slipping out from under him. In a hand back stand, he freezes, catching himself, but now stuck, unable to move without setting off the last laser. Blaine's heart is hammering in his chest, faster than the wings of a humming bird.

Not without a back up plan, Kurt uses his free hand, supporting his weight on one arm now, and slips out a small compact mirror from his back pocket. He opens the silver mirror and angles it in such a way, the laser bounces off of it, allowing Kurt freedom to flip over and safely on the opposite side. Kurt stands tall and slightly puffs out hi chest, right hand coming up and sweeping back his bangs. Success.

"Hell yeah!" Wes cheered.

David pumped his fist in the air, "Go Kurt!"

Blaine clapped loudly, his palms red, a wide grin on his face, similar to a 'proud mama' look though he refrained from stating, "That's my boyfriend!" as everyone was already aware.

Kurt bowed and waved like Miss USA greeting her adoring public, holding an imaginary bouquet of flowers. "Thank you, thank you, you're too kind." Dropping the act, Kurt than turned to the freezer door, confident and ready for the next hurdle. Said hurdle turned into a brick wall and his smile dropped off his face and melted into the floor. "Um… we have a slight problem guys." He called out and the cheers immediately ceased.

"What?" Blaine questioningly called out.

"There's a key pad connecting to the door and there's also a thumb scanner." Exclamation of curses echoed around the warehouse.

Always thinking, always planning, Wes asked Kurt if had his iPhone with him, "Actually I think I do," Kurt said, turning away from the daunting door, "I put it in my vest as a habit, but Wes, since the satellites are down it doesn't really work,"

Wes dropped to the ground and dug through the vest until he came across the bejeweled phone. Eyes to the floor, he found a straight opening pathway through the lasers and slide the phone across the smooth concrete floor. Kurt caught it, wincing at the loss of jewels from the abuse, "What do you want me to do with this exactly Wes?"

"Take your laser cutter and cut open the seems of around the keypad." Wes continued to walk Kurt through the works of breaking into the freezer using the laser cutter, connecting wires to his iPhone and a few codes genius!Wes apparently knew.

In close to five minutes, the keypad beeped and simultaneously the lasers disappeared and the heavy metal door slide open. Double success. The three joined Kurt at the door and while Kurt slipped back on his vest, they entered.

To say that the freezer was cold was like saying that penguins are cute, Blaine is cheesy, Kurt loves high fashion, that David likes lists while Wes loves his gavel. Blaine wrapped his arms tightly around him and his teeth chattered in his jaw.

"Fuck its cold," Wes swore and huddled close to David. Kurt blew into cupped hands and bounced on his toes a couple times.

They walked through a wall of fog caused by the intensely cold temperature and found an empty rack holding but two vials. One was a yellow-green color while the other was a bright violet. Well shit.

"So that kinda freakin' sucks," Kurt announced as he glared at the two different "cures."

"Just a little," Blaine said sarcastically and moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Kurt.

"So which one do you think it is?" Wes asked, his face scrunched in confusion.

"Who says it can't be both?" David tried to reason while the others frowned.

"Why both?"

"Like a part one and two to the antidote?"

Kurt was cut off from finishing his sentence, "I say-" when a voice came from behind them.

"It's the violet one."

The four boys whirled around with varying degrees of alarm, David squeaking and Blaine grabbing onto Kurt's arm. Through the fog came a man no taller and no older than themselves. He had dark brown hair that was just too windblown to be stylish, too tight of a shirt and too lose of jeans with a bandanna around his head that did nothing to help his fro. Damn if it didn't look like Sue's description was right on the money. Because seriously, this guy was not attractive in the least. No wonder he found the cure. He had to put his sexual frustrations into something.

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "What is violet?"

"The cure," The new guy said, trying to push back his fro in vain, "The cure is the violet vial."

David gaped at him, "Why the hell would you tell us which one is the cure? To some random guys who broke into your building trying to steal it and you tell us which one it is? What the fuck man."

The guy shrugged, "Maybe I admire how badass this whole thing is. You guys actually figured out I finally found the cure and broke in here to get it. Probably to save your friend or something equally as courageous and honest, like in Chuck!"

David and Wes exchanged guilty glances while Kurt fixed his gaze on the unnamed guy steadily, giving nothing away. Blaine looked at the guy and back at the two vials. He cautiously dropped Kurt's hand and stepped backwards towards the rack while everyone's focus wasn't on him.

"How do we know you're not lying than! You could be telling us it's the violet one when really it's the yellow one!" Wes demanded. Kurt nodded his agreement and put his hands on his hips, still glaring his patented glare (still not for sale in case you were wondering).

The guy shrugged simply, making Kurt's blood boil, "You don't. Though I suppose you can take both. But fair warning, the other may or may not be a poison so be careful to which you give someone."

Kurt's nostrils flared and he raised his chin minutely, "Alright, you listen here Mrs. Frizzle of the Magic School Bus," Kurt all but growled, dropping into his lower range. "I have had it up to here with this little mission of mine. I have almost been blown up, killed, shot at, killed again, trampled, burned alive, and tackled. I have ruined so many good pairs of jeans and classic shirts that I don't even know how I haven't broken down and cried. I haven't moisturized in over a week nor have I seen any new Project Runways. I've left my family and friends behind and traveled with this lot here, babysitting their asses and saving said ungrateful asses all week. I am going to get this cure, I am going to get it now, and than I am going to go home, help Coach take over the US and go live in Paris for the rest of my days, while vacating in New York okay? So be a good pagan and do your cosmic good deed of the day and tell me which cure is the correct one!"

Somewhere in that blow up, Kurt had unclasped his hairspray from his best and held it up threateningly.

Behind him Blaine held both cures up to his face, examining them closely. He than uncapped the violet one and took a tentative whiff. He jerked back, nose scrunched up in disgust at the smell and quickly recapped it. He than uncapped the yellow and even more cautiously, sniffed at it. He glanced at the vial is bemusement before shaking it around.

Meanwhile, the hippy guy looked amused at the sight of Kurt threatening him with his hairspray. Laughing he just shook his head at the troublesome boys. His laughter sputtered out when the boy took a tighter, struck it, and held it in front of the hairspray nozzle.

"Not so funny now is it?" Kurt smirked evilly.

Wes and David took a collective step back, eyeing the pale boy wearily.

The guy gulped audibly starring in horror at the now very real threat. "So what will it be? Will you tell us which one is the real cure or will I have to use extreme measures?"

But the guy remained silent. Until at least when Kurt let out a quick one second whiff of aerosol chemicals and the air before the man lit up in a stream of hot red and orange flames, hungry in such a cold environment.

"It's the violet one," Blaine announced suddenly, steeping even with Kurt. Though his eyes never left the man's in front of him, Kurt asked Blaine how he knew. Blaine shrugged, "The yellow one is Mountain Dew," he said simply. He than uncapped the yellow one and threw it back, swallowing it, much to the mounting terror of his boyfriend and friends.

"Blaine!" Kurt squeaked and turned to the smaller boy, worry clouding his features.

Blaine chuckled, and hugged the boy, "It's fine. Mountain Dew like I thought!"

"Though?" Kurt screeched and pulled back, hitting at Blaine's arm, "You weren't sure? You could have died, you idiot! I can't believe you!"

Blaine winced, "I was like ninety-five percent sure." At Kurt's worsening glare he amended, "Ninety-eight, ninety-nine point five perfect sure."

Kurt's eyes narrowed even further, "I'll deal with you later." He turned to the guy who looked like he was ready to bolt at any moment, "Uh, uh, you're not going anywhere. Is he right? Is the violet one the real cure? Or are they both fake? Did you just make you that you figured out the cure to the zombie plague?"

"Zombolitixes," Wes added.

The guy shook his head and stuttered out, "N-no! I really did find the cure, I promise! It's the violet one, I swear on my weed farm in my mom's basement, it really does cure zombisitics."

Wes frowned at David and whispered, "I really like zombolitixes better."

David patted him on his back in solidarity, "Me too buddy, I thought it was the best one yet, much better than zombistics."

"So this," Kurt gestured to the vial Blaine held in his hand, "Is really the cure?"

"Yup!" The guy nodded but then started to dig into his jacket. Kurt grew tense and held his hairspray prepared. But it was unneeded, for the man merely offered a small baggy of powdery substance.

Kurt leaned back and shook his head, assuming it was drugs, "No, no thanks. We don't want any."

The other shook his head, "No, you don't understand. It's the last ingredient for the cure. Just add this and it will work."

"Oh," Kurt said, taking the baggy before handing it off to Blaine, and nodded his thanks.

But than the guy had to ruin the moment by trying to be a douche. He scrambled backwards, hand reaching for the outside keypad, in order to lock them in but before he could, Kurt sprayed a line of fire aimed at his hand and he to abandon the keypad. Kurt than slipped Wes' pistol from his belt and jumps forward, pistol whipping the man harshly. There was a pause as the guy's face falls blank before he crumpled to the floor like a sack of rocks or his dreams of being rich and manwhore-ish like Hugh Hefner with his discovery of the cure.

Kurt tossed back Wes' gun and calmly stepped over the unconscious body lying in the doorway, smoothing out his shirt and holstering his trusty hairspray. "Come on guys! I can almost taste Paris!"

Wes, David and Blaine each exchanged glances boarding on stunned, amazed, and fearful.

"Man, your boyfriend is scary," David admitted with ease, exiting the freezer and kicking the man's prone body. Wes stepped on the guys hand but dragged him out fully so he wouldn't freeze and die, than stepped on his other hand. "Really, I am scared of the tadpole now. He's like black ops, scary shit."

Blaine followed behind the two, his gaze on his innocent looking boyfriend, strutting across the empty warehouse. "Yeah, but I still really love him."

Wes and David groaned, "Still cheesy dude. Stop trying to drown us in the cheese."

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-End-

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AN: Well kind of, only a short epilogue to go! Thanks for reading this really long chapter! Sorry again about the long wait between chapters, but maybe this long chapter makes up for it? Promise the epilogue won't take as long. Have a good day! (awkward AN is awkward, sorry, it's 1:30 am and I'm a little tired.)


	9. Step 9:Where Kurt Finally Tastes Paris

AN: You are all too kind to me! Thanks again to all the lovely reviewers and readers! But alas this is the end! It's weird to think that this all started as a ridiculous long one shot and now it's nine chapters long, seriously, what the hell? But it's been crazy and fun, so who can complain, almost sad to this end but at the same time now I can really focus on my new story (if you're curious just ask, but it's still very in the early stages of planning and writing)!

Half the chapter is the epilogue, half is a breakdown of Wes' and David's rules. Hope you enjoy! Sorry it's a little on the short side, but hey so is Darren, and we love him right? Who am I kidding, the hobbit has at least six inches on me, I'm shorty mcgee. I have no room for talk... anywhos, ignore me, and umm enjoy? yes, enjoy!

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**Chapter 9: Epilogue: Or Where Kurt Can Really Taste Paris**

"…Than I say to the people, how can we rebuild America, the World, without a strong hand? We do not need parties bickering like obese children fighting over the last piece of pie. No. We do not need someone concerned with budget or change or anything of that sort of hippy pot smoking nature that has taken over Washington. It is time to take back our country, by force if need be! I can guarantee you that I will rebuild America, safer, stronger, better! It will be easier than getting William Schuester to stop using so much Crisco in his hair! So get ready America, get ready World, I am here and I will take care of everything."

Sue Sylvester pursued her lips and nodded once before waving away any questions and exited the television screen.

Kurt clicked off the TV and sighed heavily, collapsing back onto the bed. Blaine curled into his boyfriend's side and nipped at his exposed shoulder.

"Even a country away and hundreds of thousands of miles between us, she still scares the shit out of me." Blaine admitted between kisses.

Kurt turned towards the boy and wrapped one of his hands in the dark curls arching his neck to allow Blaine better access. Concentrating on words instead of merely moaning, he replied, "You should be, Coach is now the richest woman alive after selling the formula to every country, reselling the correct formula after that, a- ah ah… and now taking over America."

Blaine smirked up at Kurt, successfully flustering the boy, which Kurt than saw. "Proud of yourself?"

Blaine chuckled under his breath and nodded, while Kurt rolled his eyes, "You're such a dick."

"I don't know about being a dick but I can certainly suck-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence Blaine Anderson!" Kurt scowled and tried to scoot away from him.

Blaine held on and didn't let the smaller boy budge, "Why?" he pouted, "You certainly had no problem last night with that sentence."

"Yeah, last night, when David and Wes were asleep in their own room, down the hall from ours." Kurt replied, trying his damnedest to keep his eyes off Blaine's mouth. A crash from outside their door and shouts from tumor one and tumor two or better known as David and Wes broke the relative piece the couple had been enjoying in the mid afternoon. "And since Wes and David are right outside in the living room, I am not going to risk getting caught doing _anything_."

Blaine muttered something like 'stupid cockblocks' but consented and went back to pressing open mouthed kisses across Kurt's neck and shoulder, loving that Kurt was now comfortable enough to keep his shirt off around him. Kurt giggled into Blaine's kiss and rolled onto of the shirtless boy, peppering his chest with tiny kisses. Blaine hummed in content and relaxed into Kurt's touch.

"I can't help but think that we'd be safer just staying in France. We could move our families here, our friends if they want. Put as much distance as we can between us, our loved one, and Ms. Sylvester." Blaine stated, resting his chin on his sternum. His eyes crossed as he focused or at least tried to on the boy resting on his chest.

Kurt countered, "There's no hope. That's not going to work. Shortly after she took over the capital she offered me all of Europe as her second in command." As he talked, it tickled Blaine as he felt Kurt's jaw movements and the hum in his chest from the vibrations of his vocal chords.

"She offered only Europe for a bribe to help her take over the entire world?" Blaine asked, laughing slightly.

"Also, as the Minister of Europe, I would have endless amount of pull in the fashion industry with an equally endless supply of workers to make all my designs. And with messages, pedicures, and facials available any time, any day." Kurt's eyes went unfocused as he dreamt of the consolation prizes of ruling a good portion of the world.

Blaine thought it over, "You should have taken it," He smirked.

Kurt huffed and smacked him on the chest, "Oh shut up you! I didn't want to be tied to the mad woman who will end up destroying the world."

"Still," Blaine said, his eyes too going out of focus, "I'd have an unlimited supply of blue M&M'sand skinned grapes. With fan boys and endless movie and TV stations."

Kurt pulled back and glared at the boy, "Fan boys?"

Blaine blushed, embarrassed, "Or you know, you could dress up and fan me and feed me skinned grapes and blue M&Ms." He asked slyly.

The other laughed sarcastically, "Haha like that would ever happen. I'd sooner dress as a lumberjack again."

"I don't know, you'd look beautiful in a toga, like… like a god." Blaine could picture it now, Kurt's hair styled up and lushes, pale skin radiant and almost glowing eternally, white toga accenting his skin and bring attention to his amazing curves.

"Blaine? Blaine!" Kurt snapped in the boy's face. "Stop drooling, you aren't a puppy."

Blaine shook off the lust filled haze. "Wahhh?"

"I can't believe you," Kurt rolled his eyes and collapsed back onto the other boy's chest.

The two grinned at each other wordlessly, Blaine leaned forward to kiss Kurt but the door swung open with David and Wes flinging themselves onto the large king sized bed.

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt!" David chanted while Wes whined, "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine!"

With their combined weight bouncing on the bed, Kurt bounced right off Blaine and off the bed. A string of curses fell from his lips as he picked himself off the floor and back onto the bed, kicking at David and Wes as he snuggled back next to his boyfriend.

"Oh! Are daddy and daddy getting' it on? Did we interrupt?" Wes asked with a knowing, sly grin.

Kurt buried his head into Blaine's bare shoulder, "Oh shut up! I hate you both."

"That's not a not a nice thing to say Dad." David poked at Kurt while Blaine laughed and held his boyfriend tighter.

"Don't even joke about you being our kids. Our kids will be well behaved and cute, not annoying and brats like you." Blaine said.

Kurt raised his head and starred at him, "You think about our kids?" he asked in an awed voice.

Blaine blushed but nodded, "Yeah I do. I think about a lot of things about our future."

"Like what?" Kurt had to ask, brimming with surprise yet a small about of pleasure, happy to know he wasn't the only one dreaming of their future.

"Well the world would slowly rebuild itself and we stay for a bit here, in Paris, enjoying life. Maybe we'd being along your family and our friends from both New Directions and the Warblers. We all have a blast living it up in the city, dancing, singing all the time. Then we'd go to college, me at Julliard and you at Parsons. We live together in a really nice apartment given us graciously by Mrs. Sylvester. Marriage. Kids. Old age and living together, forever." Blaine rattled off, starring into Kurt's eyes, trying to express just how serious he was about his dreams.

A pleased smile full with love spread across Kurt's face, "No wrinkles for me though, I, of course, would still be beautiful in my old age. And you'll look dignified with pepper colored hair."

The couple, on the same page, locked gazes and smiled, imagines of what their lives could be running through their minds.

The moment was broken when David wiped at his eyes and Wes chooed, "Aww! So cute!"

"And we'll live next door and be the favorite uncles for those little future kids." David added, pleased with himself and his idea.

"We'll never get rid of you two will we?" Kurt bemoaned and Blaine agreed, commenting, "Might as well think of the tumors as practice for the future. We'll be able to handle anything those future kids throw at us. Now I say we should take the tumors for a walk and get those croissants and coffee at that café down the street."

Kurt nodded and jumped off the bed, "Alright love! You know I can't turn down those pastries at that café." He pulled on an acceptable shirt that matched with the jeans he already had on. "Let's go Blaine, let's go practice!children."

In minutes the four were out and down in the heart of Paris, safe (still carrying their weapons of choice on their person, hey, you can never be too careful!), happy and in love. Above all, with tons of leverage with Coach Sylvester as the four were the only people in the world who knew the last secret ingredient to the cure!

And maybe all of Blaine's and Kurt's dreams came true, and maybe not all of them did, but in the end, all that matters was that their story ended in a…

And they lived Happily Ever After.

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**Extra, Extra Read All About It!**

Wes' and David's Seven Step Plan on How to Survive Your Very First Zombie Apocalypse

Or: **_Seven Steps to Being the Virginal Brunette Who Always Survives Every Movie_**

Step 1: Do Not Panic – sounds simple enough, but when you realize that people you know are zombies, you cannot panic, and do not try to keep them as pets or help them in anyway. Do not panic and start flaying around, you'll be one of the first to die/be turned.

Step 2: Grab a Weapon – something easy to carry, something you know how to use (do not grab a gun thinking you are suddenly the best shot of the whole ol' West), something that will hold up when bashed against the skulls of the many walking dead.

Step 3: Get Somewhere Safe - preferably somewhere all entrances are locked but one, minimal windows possible, board up if necessary (and it will be). Have a back up exit plan though if your one entrance is blocked by a hoard of undead and/or set aflame as you stupidly thought that would work to kill everyone (a la Shaun of the Dead).

Step 4: Gather Supplies – you cannot expect to last long battling the dead when your mind will drift off to a single drop of thirst quenching water or slice of lovely chocolate cake to cease that rumbling in your stomach. Killing the zombies will work up a sweat, and you will be hungry and thirsty before long.

Step 5: Team Up – if possible team up with fellow survives, though it might end up attracting more attention, it is best to have people who will watch you back and kill the zombie that surprisingly, was quiet enough to sneak up on you. You have to sleep sometimes too.

Step 6: Do Not Have Sex – no sex. Just don't do it. Don't listen to Nike. Having sex will only get you killed, and if you're really unfortunate you'll be attacked by zombies right before the two of you get off, and how embarrassing who it be to be killed in the nude having an intimate moment with some person you didn't know before this whole thing began, or did know but were to chicken to ask out.

Step 7: Do Not Be Cocky – just because you've survived this long, don't get too full of yourself. You are just as vulnerable as the next person, unless you cover every inch of your body with some kind of mask or shield, you can and might still die. Keep calm, stick with the rules above, and be wary of everything and everyone. Be paranoid. It's time for that. Paranoid people will stay alive.

Step 7: Revised: Always, always listen to one Sue Sylvester – simple as that. Just listen and do as she says. Disregard all above, and just focus on this step. Listen to the all mighty Coach Sylvester. Especially if you enjoy the usage of said abilities implied in Step 6.

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AN: Thank You, Thank You, THANK YOU! To every person who reviewed, who alerted, who added to favorites, who added me to favorites or alerts, and those who read my mindless fun! Thank you for giving this the time of day and thanks for sticking through my erratic updates. I am so thankful and happy that this went over so well. Thanks for reading! And I hope you all have a wonderful day and continue to be wonderful people!


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